


Awake My Soul

by FaeryQueen07



Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Het and Slash, M/M, Minor Character Death, female!Thor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-19
Updated: 2013-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-05 20:08:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/727412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaeryQueen07/pseuds/FaeryQueen07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shortly after Odin’s death, word reaches Asgard that Jötunheim has a new king as well, one with a life-changing demand if there is to be continued peace between the realms. Unwilling to ask his brothers to make such a sacrifice, Thor is left with no choice but to give up his freedom to secure the safety of his people. More than that, though, he discovers he may just have to give up his sense of self, as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kadorienne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kadorienne/gifts).



> Written for [mosellegreen](http://mosellegreen.livejournal.com) who was kind enough to bid on my for the [FandomAid](http://fandomaid.livejournal.com/52693.html?thread=426965#t426965) auction. Though Marvel movie based, I have included several elements from Norse mythology as well. This is my inspiration for [female!Thor](http://i2.listal.com/image/1082305/936full-lea-bosco.jpg). The title comes directly from the Mumford & Sons song. Many, many thanks to [Veni](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Venivincere/pseuds/Venivincere) for all her beta help. Any remaining mistakes are, of course, my own.

“They say—they say that the lost heir of Jötunheim has slain his father and laid claim to the throne.” Sif dropped her voice as a guard passed them, and beckoned the others to follow her into an alcove. “With King Odin dead and the council still undecided as to your place on the throne, it is only a matter of time before Loki Laufeyson seeks to take Asgard. We are without out leader, and Thor—Thor, you have yet to be named the new king. Your power is limited in the worst way possible.” 

She bit her lip, as though afraid she had said too much. Thor shook his head, not in disagreement, but to sooth the worry bright in her eyes. 

“My father’s death could not have been more ill-timed. Even my mother has said as much. It falls to me to save our people nonetheless.”

Volstagg cleared his throat. “What would you have us do?”

“Yes, you need only say the word and we will ride with you at once.” Fandral dropped his hand to his sword and straightened. 

“I would not have us ride anywhere,” Thor said. He watched the disbelief pass over the faces of his friends and stalled their protests with a raised hand. “I have already sent a messenger to Jötunheim’s new king to see where the treaty of old stands. He was due back before nightfall yesterday. Heimdall swore that he would not allow the messenger’s return should it mean danger to the kingdom, but as far as he can see, nothing of great concern has occurred.” Thor frowned, and his tone was grim as he continued. “Until word is received or a body delivered, we wait.” 

He closed his eyes, remembering how close he had come once before to ending the tentative peace between his kingdom and the Jötunns. It was the very reason Thor was still struggling to prove to his father that he was fit to lead their people.

Volstagg growled, one hand fisted tight at his side. “This is all well and good, Thor, but should we receive word that the treaty is to be dissolved?”

“Then we ride... into battle.” 

Just saying the words was exhausting, and Thor wished desperately that his father would wake and take this burden from his shoulders. Since he was a boy, Thor had wanted nothing more than to carry the power of King of Asgard. Now he understood the lines on his father’s face, and the gray that colored his hair. If this was what it meant to be a king, Thor found himself wondering if he was truly ready.

The sound of approaching footsteps was a welcome interruption to the empty assurances Thor had been prepared to utter. He shifted out of the shadows just as his mother came around the corner, and he opened his arms to her. The youth that had seemed so eternal upon his mother’s face was beginning to fade, and Thor’s heart ached at the thought of losing her as well, so soon after his father’s death.

“What brings you out so early this morning, mother?”

Frigga hugged him tight, then stepped back to frame his face with her hands. He knew before she opened her mouth that word had come at last, and he braced himself for the worst.

“Is our herald yet alive?”

She nodded, her gaze moving past Thor’s shoulder to his friends. “Alive and well, it would seem. He was treated with kindness by King Loki, but his news is disheartening.”

Thor tensed. “It cannot be so terrible if he is alive to tell it.”

Where his mother gripped his shoulders, she began to shake. The tremors, fine though they were, traveled up the length of her arms, and within the space of a breath, brought with them tears and a choked sob. Only when she had regained her composure did Frigga step away, and from the pouch at her hip, withdrew a small orb that glowed blue in the dimly lit corridor.

“The king’s message was contained in this, and it is best you hear it yourself.” As she spoke, the orb began to shift and grow. Seconds later, a young man close to Thor’s age stood before them, his skin pale and his eyes a shade that seemed to shift constantly between green and blue; he looked unlike any Jötunn Thor had ever seen. 

_“The time of treaties has ended. Though Asgard is great, her power is of no match to Jötunheim’s alone. Though my own kingdom is great, we are no match against the strength of Svartalfheim, let alone the undecided realm of Muspelheim. Already, Svartalfheim has declared that they are no friend to Jötunheim, no matter who the leader may be, and should they rise against my people, Alfheim will be required to rise with them, regardless of our own ties. Even if I am successful in convincing those of Nidavellir to ally themselves with my kingdom, we would not last long in a battle against the elves._

_“Therefore, I feel it is in the best interest of_ both _our kingdoms to unite as one. Together, we could bring a permanent peace to our people. To this end, I ask the hand of King Odin’s most eligible child in marriage. Should Asgard consent, you need not send a messenger, only the heir and a small accompaniment. I will give you three weeks to make your decision known to me by way of your arrival in Jötunheim. Should Asgard choose to refuse, then I shall be forced to make a similar offer to Muspelheim, and I can assure you that Asgard would not have long to regret her decision should that happen.”_

The threat was unmistakable, and King Loki’s mouth curled up into a smile that bordered on cruel as he bowed low. Then he was gone, the orb once more suspended in the air between them for a long moment before it disappeared with the softest whisper.

“Of course you will refuse!” Volstagg stepped forward, his hand heavy where it landed on Thor’s shoulder. “To demand a marriage to one of the sons of Odin! What sort of bastard would do such a thing?”

Thor turned a wry smile on his friend. “The kind of bastard who was left to die by his father and adopted by the fair but unusual Queen of Alfheim. She has taught him well, for he appears as formidable as their queen, and I would not dare to cross her on even the best of days.” Thor looked to his mother, and saw the resignation in her eyes. He wished he could offer her some assurance that all would be well, but he found it hard to convince even himself.

“He underestimates us, my son. If we were to reach out to Vanaheim—”

Thor reached for Frigga, taking her hands within his own. “We would still be no match for Jötunheim. Vanaheim’s magic is great, to be certain, but they will not go to war for us. You forget, mother, that we are not at true peace with your people, and now that father is dead, it is only a matter of time before they realize just how vulnerable we are. If Jötunheim rose against us, they would see it as a means of taking back from Asgard what we have come to treasure most.” He gave her hands a gentle squeeze to emphasis his point before releasing her.

Behind him, Thor’s friends rushed to share their thoughts on the matter. He let them speak, but after a few moments, he silenced them once more.

“If there were any other way, I would not choose this path, but it is for the good of all Asgard that I must accept King Loki’s offer. As the oldest, it is my duty to put Asgard’s well-being before even my own. I will not send Baldur, nor will I recall Váli from Midgard. As it is, Asgard cannot hope to defeat Jötunheim right now. Even if the Council chooses tonight to name me king, we would be as lacking in defenses and allies.” 

Frigga let out a soft noise of distress, but the tilt of her head and the sharp gleam in her eye was confirmation enough that she would stand by Thor’s decision.

“It is as you say, my son, and though I do not send you willingly into the arms of those we have considered the enemy for so long, I know the truth of what you say. Your father would be proud of you, were he here.” She hugged him close once more, then nodded to his friends. “King Loki has agreed to a small accompaniment. It would be a comfort to me if you would take your friends with you. At the very least, you would not be alone, and at the very best, should he prove untrustworthy, they will see that you are protected.”

Thor ignored the slight to his own capabilities, and moved to face the group as a whole. “It is decided, then, if you are all agreeable.” At their nod, he continued. “Tonight, we announce to the kingdom the decision to unite our kingdom with Jötunheim, and in two weeks’ time, we leave for King Loki’s castle.”

“So soon?”

His mother’s distress weighed heavily upon Thor’s heart, but he knew that to delay their arrival in Jötunheim was too great a risk. 

“Fear not, mother. This parting is only temporary. Once our kingdoms are united, we will see each other often.” He prayed there was some truth in his words. “Has the Council been notified of King Loki’s demands?”

Frigga shook her head. “I thought it best to let you hear the message first.”

Thor sighed and met Fandral’s gaze over his mother’s head. “See that no one else speaks of the matter until this evening. I must meet with the Council now to discuss this offer from Jötunheim.” He offered them a smile that he knew lacked conviction. “I will see you all later.”

With his mother at his side, Thor headed for the council chambers. He stopped along the way to send one servant to fetch the members, including Thor’s brother, Baldur. After a moment of deliberation, he sent another to have food and drink brought up to the room. It was still early enough that many were probably abed yet, and Thor knew that the forethought would be much appreciated.

The room was empty when they arrived, and Thor took his usual spot in the seat to the right of what had been his father’s chair, and his mother to the left. Baldur arrived next, and his face was tight with concern as he sat beside Thor.

“Something has happened. What is it?”

As quietly and quickly as possible, Thor explained the situation. It had been his initial plan to say nothing until everyone had arrived, but he did not like the idea of Baldur being caught unaware with the rest of the castle. The sight of his brother’s face gone pale with worry was a reminder that Loki’s demand could very well affect Baldur, as well. Though Thor was older by four years, should Loki find Thor an unfit consort, then it was possible he would set his sights on Baldur. The very idea had Thor rigid with unspoken fury.

The arrival of the Council members dragged Thor from his thoughts. He waited in silence as they shuffled into the room and found their seats, then allowed them a few moments more for food to be passed around. When all eyes were on him, Thor stood and began to explain once more the demands of Jötunheim’s new ruler.

As he spoke, people began to set their food aside, and the full attention of each Council member fixed on him. When he finished speaking, Thor sank back down in his chair and let the sound of their voices, rising with anger, wash over him. He was so unaware of what was going on around him that it was not until Baldur gripped his shoulder that Thor realized someone was speaking to him.

Councilwoman Bestla cleared her throat, her eyes kind as she repeated her question. “And you have decided to accept King Loki’s offer, I take it?”

Thor nodded. “Asgard has been a peaceful realm for nearly a century. I would not wish to send Her into battle now, when there is an alternative already being offered.”

Councilman Sindri stood. As the most senior member of the council, all eyes moved to him. “The Council would like to request time to deliberate over this new information. When we have come to a decision, we will call you back into the room.”

His tone was flat and dismissive, but Thor was no longer fooled by Councilman Sindri’s less than pleasant demeanor. He could see the worry in the older man’s eyes, and he nodded as he stood.

“My brother and I will retire to my mother’s solar room. When you are ready, we can be found there.”

He expected the closed session to last at least a day to come to a unanimous decision, so he was surprised when, just after the noon hour, a servant arrived to summon the three of them back to the council room. The moment Thor crossed the threshold, he knew that they had done more than simply discuss the offer made my King Loki, and his suspicions were confirmed minutes later, when Councilman Sindri stood to speak.

“Since your father’s passing a month ago, the Council has been in debate as to whether Prince Thor was ready to assume the throne. It is clear to us now that not only is he ready, he is more than capable. Therefore, the Council had come to the agreement that in four days’ time, Prince Thor is to be crowned Asgard’s king. 

“However, in regard to the offer made by King Loki of Jötunheim, it is the Council’s belief that allowing a marriage between the two kingdoms would be beneficial. In the absence of Crown Prince Thor, the weight of the crown will fall to his brother, Baldur, until such a time as Thor is able to return to Asgard as her true ruler.”

From his place beside Thor, Baldur let out a noise of discontent. He was careful not to voice his thoughts until the session ended and they were alone once more. Even then, Baldur waited until their mother left before speaking.

“I have no desire to rule when you are the true king,” he stated.

Thor smiled and reached out to pull his brother into an embrace. “And were our positions reversed, I would say the same. But the Council has deemed it so, and you are not unprepared to fill this role. There is more, though. If anything should happen to me in Jötunheim, Asgard cannot be left without a ruler. You will need to protect our people.”

“How?” Baldur all but snarled the word, and he looked ready to storm away.

“If, after three days’ time, you have not heard from me, send a messenger to Nidavellir. They swore an allegiance to our people many centuries ago, and the dwarves will not have forgotten it. Send word to them that Jötunheim has declared war upon Asgard. Through them, you will find allies in the Svartalfheim.”

“Not Alfheim?”

Thor shook his head. “No. They will first align themselves with King Loki for he is the adopted son of their queen. Only when you have gained the aid of the dwarves and the dark elves will Vanaheim consider fighting at our side.”

A shadow passed over Baldur’s face. “You do not think the Jötunns will seek the aid of Hel? It is rumored that their queen is the daughter of King Loki.”

“I have no doubt that they will appeal to the—people of Hel, but Hela bows to no man or woman unless it pleases her to do so. Do as I have said and Asgard may very well survive this. Alfheim will be forced to withdraw from any battle once it is made known that Svartalfheim has chosen our side for they cannot raise arms against their own kind. That will leave only Jötunheim and Muspelheim. Midgard has no part in our wars, and that will not change even now.”

Baldur stroked a hand over his beard. “You sound as though the war has already been decided.”

“No, but it as father once said: A wise king never seeks out war, but he must always be ready for it. Now, brother, let us put aside such serious discussions. I should like to enjoy these next few days without such heavy talk.” 

He did not add, ‘for they may very well be my last,’ but he knew that Baldur shared the same thought. 

They walked together to Thor’s room so that he could change, and after that, headed for the armory to practice. Within an hour, Thor’s friends joined them, and he shoved aside all his worries. He passed the next few days much the same, breaking away for brief periods of time to meet with the Council. Though the coronation ceremony was rushed, it was clear that Council intended for it to be a formal affair.

On the eve following Thor’s crowning, he found himself not with his friends in the great hall, but in his mother’s rooms. She had disappeared just after the coronation, and Thor had been forced to wait until now to seek her out. Now that they were alone, he found himself broaching the very subject he wished never to think about.

“Though they have said nothing yet, we have only a week until it is time for me to leave. If the worst should happen—if the worst should happen, Asgard will need a new king.”

“Do not say such things,” his mother pleaded.

Thor pulled her into a hug, willing some of his strength into her. In the last few days alone she had grown more drawn and tired, to say nothing of all the weight she had lost since his father’s passing.

“Though the kingdom celebrates their newly-crowned king tonight, tomorrow, they will feast for Crown Prince Baldur. Should anything happen to me, he will take the throne, and the duty to protect Asgard will fall to him. I have already discussed the matter with him, and together, we have for formulated a plan to secure Asgard’s safety. But that is enough on the matter. Let us not dwell on the future until it is time for me to leave.”

Frigga looked ready to disagree, but after another moment, nodded. “You are correct. I would not wish to waste what precious time we have. Come, my son. Let us return to your feast. We will deal with the tomorrows as they come.”

***.*.*.***

The day of Thor’s leaving came much too soon for Thor’s liking. He struggled from the sofa upon which he had fallen asleep the night before and stretched to loosen his limbs. The parting feast had turned into an all-night celebration, and though his head rang from too much mead, Thor did not regret his decision to remain with his friends. As he picked his way around the slumbering bodies, Thor roused Sif and the others and led them out into the hallway.

“It is time to pack, my friends. Know now that should you choose to remain behind, I would not fault you.”

Sif shook her head. “My mother has four other daughters to keep in line. Though I shall be missed, she knows that my place is by the side of Asgard’s King.”

“And I am the middle son, loved but not required to remain home. My father sends his best wishes to you, Thor.” Fandral yawned midway through his small speech, his jaw cracking loudly in the empty hall.

Volstagg made no response, though Thor had not thought he would. Hogun, to his credit, offered only a small smile, and a brief, “I am fortunate in this instance to have no family to worry after. We will meet you in the courtyard at noon.”

They parted ways, and Thor walked the hallways of his home for what was possibly the last time. His words to his mother the night before had been meant to comfort, but there was a part of him that worried he would not return to Asgard after this. That he would arrive in Jötunheim only to meet his death. The thought had his stomach twisting in on itself, and by the time Thor reached the door to his quarters, he was ready to change his mind.

When he stepped inside, it was to find Frigga seated in one of his chairs, her hair down around her shoulders and feet tucked up beneath her. In her lap was a book, and she snapped it shut as Thor closed the door behind him.

“You are looking well for someone who passed the night drinking with companions.”

“Then that is by some miracle produced not by me. What brings you here so early?”

Her smile, when she stood, was brittle, and Thor felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

“I came to speak with you on the matter of your—your marriage.” She glanced down at the book in her hand, then back up at Thor. “It is possible that King Loki has not yet heard of you, and as such, may not know that you are male. He could very well be unaware that you are unable to produce an heir of both your bloodlines. My fear is that he will decide to... _correct_ the oversight himself. To that end, I wished to offer you an alternative.”

“Correct the oversight how?” Thor demanded. 

Frigga sighed and looked toward the dying embers in the hearth. “The Jötunns are not strictly a male race, but there are far fewer females among them. So few, in fact, that quite often, the Jötunns are forced to look outside their kingdom to reproduce. It is said that the women taken by Jötunns are kept until the child reaches the age of two, and then they are killed. There are rumors, however, that a few of the most powerful Jötunns were able to take male consorts and alter their physical beings enough to bear a child, but only one. The toll for such magic came with the price of the male mother. I would not have that be your fate.”

“And so what would you offer instead?” Even as Thor spoke, he knew what his mother’s reply would be.

“That we change your gender completely. It would not be an illusion, Thor, and from what I have read, the spell cannot be undone. It will not fade, even after death. You would forever remain a woman, though who you are will not change. Your strength, your heart—those are a part of you that cannot be altered, no matter what shape your body takes.”

Thor stepped away from her to sink down onto the edge of a chair, and his head swam as he took into consideration what she was offering. A large part of him rebelled at the very idea of giving up even so small a part of him, but he saw no alternative.

“I cannot leave Asgard as a woman. I will not let that be my peoples’ last sight of me.”

His mother sat beside him, and she gripped both his hands within her own. “It is a sacrifice, my son, but your people will not think you less for it. Leave Asgard as Thor, heir to Asgard’s throne, and care not that your body is no longer what it once was.”

“My friends—”

“Will come to understand with time. Thor, if you do not wish to do so, I will understand. Say the word and it will be as though I never spoke of it.”

Tempting though the thought was, Thor knew he had little choice. If death was the result of bearing a child, King Loki would not make the mistake of being the one to carry his own offspring. That task would fall to Thor, and he would rather do so in a manner that would not end with him dying in a foreign land.

He let out a deep breath and stood. “I will need clothes, and a bath first, I should think.”

“Sif—Sif should be the first to know. You will need her assistance the most for the first few months. You prepare for your bath and I will see that your friends are made aware of the new plan. When I return, we will begin the spell.”

Thor had a thought, and he grasped her wrist when she made to stand. “It will be painful, will it not?”

Frigga shook her head. “I will put you into a temporary sleep first. Awake, the pain would be tremendous, but asleep, the change will pass unnoticed by you.” 

She pressed a kiss to his forehead and stood. She was gone before Thor could think of anything else to ask, and he busied himself with filling a copper tub and fetching a blade and mirror. He knew there was little point in shaving his beard and mustache when the spell would no doubt take care of that, but it felt awkward to become a woman while still wearing one. As the heated water began to fill the tub, Thor sat at his table and set a looking glass before him. He worked the soap into a thick lather, then set about covering his face.

The first swipe of the blade along his throat was the hardest, and when he caught a glimpse of the bare skin left behind, his hand shook. Not since his sixteenth birthday had he been without a beard, and he mourned the loss of it already. Taking a deep breath, Thor willed his hand to steady and returned to his task, not stopping again until the job was done. When he wiped away the last of the soap, he grimaced at his reflection.

He looked much younger with his face so bare, and he wondered what Fandral would say. Thor set aside the mirror and crossed to the tub, shutting off the flow of water. He shed his clothes quickly and stepped into the steaming basin with little regard for the sting of too-hot water against his skin. He soaked until the water grew tepid, then washed quickly and stood once more.

By the time Thor was wrapped in his robe, his mother had returned. She was seated at his eating table, the book open in front of her and a bundle of herbs on a platter to her left. Thor swallowed hard and nodded to them.

“Part of a potion?” he asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“No,” she replied. “They are simply to calm your nerves. Lavender for relaxation, rosemary to clear the senses, and sage for positive energy. You will overcome all the obstacles that stand in your way, my darling. Now go put this on, then lie on your bed. I will be there in a moment.”

She handed him an amulet made of twisted wire and a dull, purple stone. It was pretty, in a vague, unfinished way, and as Thor padded into his sleeping chambers, he undid the clasp and fastened it around his neck. The necklace was cool against his skin, and he shivered as he climbed onto his bed and lay down. No sooner than his head hit the pillow than unconsciousness came.

***.*.*.***

When Thor woke, his head was pounding and his mouth felt dry. He grimaced as he slid his tongue over his teeth, and for just a moment, forgot all that had occurred over the last day, and the reason he was abed. Then he sat up, and the unfamiliar weight pulling at his chest had him glancing down in surprise. Though hidden beneath the folds of his robe, Thor could make out the swell of his breasts, and he let out a sound, high and desperate, as he wrenched the covering open.

Shock coursed through him even as the memory of his earlier conversation with Frigga surfaced. The hands molded over the mounds of his breasts were slim, dainty and unfamiliar though they still bore his calluses. The nails were sharper than they had been before, and they left deep scratches that began to well with blood almost immediately. As though hearing from a great distance, Thor could make out his mother’s voice as she called his name, but he could not look away from the evidence of what he had become.

“Thor! No!” 

Hands caught hold of his wrists, pinning them to the bed as Frigga sat beside him. Her cheeks were stained with tears and she shook her head.

“Darling, you must not. You were due to meet in the courtyard an hour ago. I have been much afraid that you would not wake when you lingered in sleep.”

“Undo—,” Thor began to demand. At the sound of his—now _her_ , and he would have to get used to that if this was to succeed—voice, she closed her eyes and fought off an urge to be sick. Thor tried to tug free but gave up under her unrelenting grip. When he spoke again, he kept his voice deliberately low. “Undo the spell. I cannot live like this.”

“Thor, it is impossible. You know this. The spell is permanent.”

Thor went still, rage making his tone go flat. “Then kill me, for death would be far more merciful than this.”

Frigga let out a sob that tore at Thor’s heart as she gathered him into her arms. “I am so sorry, my son.”

Like that, all of Thor’s anger fled, and he sagged into the welcome circle of his mother’s arms. “It is not your fault, mother.” He took a deep breath, then closed the robe over his body as he pulled away. “I should get ready. All will be for naught if we do not leave for Jötunheim.” He offered her a wan smile before he slid from the bed. “Where are my clothes?”

“Here.”

It was not Thor’s mother who replied, but Sif, and he realized with a start that she must have been in the room the whole time. She stepped forward, her eyes never straying from his face, and when he made no move to retrieve the clothing in her arms, pressed them into his hands. Her gaze was steady as she reached up with one hand to touch his hair. 

“It is like the wheat fields at sunset; when you turn your head just so, it is as though your hair has turned to molten gold. I am envious of the color.” She let the strands slip through her fingers, and Thor resisted the urge to flinch away. Sif withdrew, and she glanced down at her hands as she added, “We should tie it back so it does not get in your way.”

“When I am dressed,” Thor said. 

Though Thor had never been shy about his body before, he found the idea of disrobing in front of his mother and Sif unsettling given his new body. He stepped behind the screen and stared straight at the wall, resolute not to see more than necessary. Once the shock of it all wore away, Thor knew he would find no end of delights in the body he now wore, but at the moment, it was all he could do not to be sick on the floor.

The clothes Sif had brought him were a perfect fit, molding over the curves of his body without feeling too constrictive. It was thick as well, two layers sewn together to form one, and it took Thor a moment to understand why.

“I had forgotten that Jötunheim is a realm that lives entirely in winter.” He reached for the fur-lined vest and secured it across his chest and waist. Last was the heavy cloak, and he swung it up onto his shoulders to fasten at his throat. When he stepped back into the main room, he met Sif’s gaze head on. “I would not blame you if you chose to change your mind.”

The look Sif sent him was enough to send even the mightiest of warriors ducking for cover. “Do not be an idiot. My place is, as I said, by your side. The others have said the same. I am going to go say my farewells one last time, and then we should go. Heimdall stands ready to open the Bifrost to us.”

She disappeared through the door, leaving Thor alone with his mother. Frigga nodded toward the sofa and Thor took a seat beside her, twisting around so that she comb back his hair and work it into a tight braid. After a long moment of uncomfortable silence, Frigga cleared her throat.

“I will send a message to my father in Vanaheim. If there is a way to reverse the spell, they will know of it. As soon as I have an answer, I will send word.”

“And if it is too late?” 

Thor stared down at his hands. Now that some of the shock had worn off, he could see that they were not quite as different as he had first thought. Though more slender than now than prior to the change, they were still broader than his mother’s, his wrists only moderately more narrow.

“I love you, and no matter what, you are my son. Now and go say goodbye to your brother. I told him earlier what we had done and he has been waiting to see you.”

With a final hug and a whispered, ‘I love you, too,’ Thor went in search of his brother, unsurprised when he found him in the armory standing beside Mjölnir. Baldur, to his credit, did not so much as flinch away at the sight of Thor.

“You make a handsome woman,” he said, his tone soft and a little sad. “I will explain your decision to the Council before your return. The throne of Asgard is still yours, never doubt that.”

Thor glanced down at where his hammer rested, more than a little afraid to reach for it. It was Baldur’s fingers on his wrist, tugging his hand closer, that prompted him to grip the handle, though he made no further move to lift it.

“It is yours, still.” Baldur paused. “It is a gift I inherited from our mother’s side, I think, but I can hear her hum, Mjölnir, and it is your name that echoes in my head when I am near. See for yourself.”

His gaze locked on Baldur’s, Thor tensed. He imagined he would need to use more strength now, and almost tipped over at how easy it was to pick Mjölnir up. Startled, he looked down at the glowing runes etched along the sides.

“She feels no different.”

“It is not you that has changed, Thor, just how you appear. When you next visit—and you will, or I shall ride into Jötunheim with an army and steal you back—it will be the same.” 

Thor set Mjölnir down back on the low pedestal, then reached for his brother, dragging him into a tight embrace. “Thank you, brother,” he whispered, the words half-lodged in his throat.

Baldur returned the hug, drawing it out until Thor’s heart no longer pounded hard enough to break through his chest, then stepped back. “Now let us go. You have a young king to conquer and two realms to unite. I will see you to the courtyard.”

Thor pulled on his cloak then, lifting the hood to hide his face. As they made their way through the castle, he kept his head down and his eyes averted. It was not until he was seated upon his horse that Thor looked up again, and then it was to see his mother and brother standing at his knee.

“Take care of Asgard in my absence,” he instructed. 

Thor nudged his horse into a trot, and he led the way to the rainbow bridge with his friends falling into step behind him. When they reached Heimdall, they dismounted and took hold of the horses’ reins. To travel with them was not an easy feat, but Thor had been unsure when making the decision as to whether the Jötunns would have beasts suitable for the Aesir.

With a final glimpse back over his shoulder, Thor took a deep breath and stepped into the dome.

***.*.*.***

Their arrival in Jötunheim heralded an audience of at least two dozen Jötunns, all of whom were gathered just along the icy edges of the great throne. The throne itself was empty, and a shiver of unease slid down his spine. He could sense the apprehension coming from his friends, but he was helpless to do anything. Among the many things he had left behind was his beloved Mjölnir, and though he missed the comforting weight of his hammer, he did not dare risk bring such a weapon into a land of a magic, where his actions might not be of his own devising. He regretted that decision now as he stepped in front of his friends.

Thor lowered his voice as far as it could go and still carry and said, “I am Thor of Asgard, here on behalf of my kingdom in answer to a request set before us by King Loki Laufeyson.”

A great rumble went up amongst the Jötunns, but no advance was made. Just when Thor was beginning to think they would be left out in the cold to freeze, someone began to clap.

“A fine, yet simple, speech. Thor of Asgard, I am Loki, lost son of Laufey and king of Jötunheim. It is something we have in common, our recent crownings.” 

The two Jötunns standing closest shifted, and from behind them appeared their king. He lacked the impressive stature of the frost giants and instead stood at a height no greater than that of the tallest Aesir. His dark hair was slicked back, and his eyes, the palest shade of green, were sharp as they moved over the faces of Thor and his friends.

Thor straightened, and he watched through narrowed eyes as the Jötunn king drew close to the group. He was careful not to flinch under the assessing gaze, and he did not relax until Loki smiled. Even then, he was on his guard.

“You are not what I expected, Thor of Asgard.” Loki arched a single eyebrow as he circled Thor and his friends. “To be certain, I believed you would come with a guard of no less than twenty warriors given that you were entering into enemy lands.”

“That is hardly a small accompaniment. But if it pleases you to know, those with me are Asgard’s finest.”

Loki smirked as he took a half-step forward, but he moved back to meet Thor’s gaze dead on. “And I would have expected a face of great beauty from the daughter of Lady Frigga.”

“How dare you!” 

Though it was Fandral who spoke, it was Volstagg who stepped forward. Thor stayed him with a hand to Volstagg’s arm.

“Oh, do not mistake my meaning. You are very striking, Thor of Asgard. Marriage to you will be of no great hardship on my part.” He glanced over his shoulder at the giants still lingering, then turned on his heel. “Come. It is far too cold out for your Aesir blood. Let us move this conversation inside.” 

With a nod to Thor and his friends, Loki led the way into the depths of Jötunheim. They walked in silence, Thor keeping stride with the king as his friends slowed their paces to take in all the icy cavern walls. As they moved further away from the surface, the air became a more comfortable temperature. Thor wondered how far they would go. When he voiced the question aloud, Loki turned to peer at him over his shoulder.

“We are not as deep as you would think. The tunnels were constructed at a gentle slope, but while Jötunheim lacks Asgard’s great volume, it is larger than many assume.”

Thor nodded as his gaze roved over the walls. “How is it so much warmer down here? I would expect it to be as cold, if not colder, than the surface.”

Loki slowed his pace until they were walking side-by-side. “From my estimation, the core of Jötunheim lies in the atmosphere surrounding, hence the great mountains of ice. It should be as cold here, but the magic of the Jötunns is what keeps the temperature lower. There are few of my kind who travel beneath the surface, and when they do, they stay for only a brief period of time.” 

“Then why have it this warm at all?”

As Thor spoke, they drew up to two very tall doors, almost twice the size of any Jötunn. Loki laid one hand against the door, and he pushed it open, he said, 

“This is why.”

The city within the walls—for it was very much a city—was dense with small houses. There were a few animals as well: dogs thick with winter fur and large felines like those bred in Asgard. More surprising than that, however, were the people who stopped to look up from what they were doing to stare at the new arrivals. From behind him, Sif and the others gasped. 

Thor stepped past Loki for a better view, unable to process just what he was seeing. “But we were told...” He trailed off at the sight of a young child—blue of skin and red of eyes but otherwise Aesir in appearance—ran by.

“That the Jötunns kill their mates if taken from another realm?” Loki sneered as he spoke, his tone dripping with disdain. “You were misinformed. King Laufey was not a kind or just ruler, of that you may be certain, and he was quick to kill the wives he took for their blood fed his power, but he would not force the hand of his people to do the same. Our kind is not as cruel as you have been led to believe, young _princ_ ess.”

Thor glanced over, startled. “I can see that I was wrong in my assumptions concerning Jötunheim.”

“As I was in my assumptions of you. The tales that reached my ears as a child had me believing you were a man of great strength and courage.”

A hint of disbelief colored Loki’s words, and Thor found himself moving away.

“It is a common enough occurrence. There are many ballads that have my brothers Baldur and Váli confused.” Thor shifted his gaze back to the city and tilted his chin in that direction. “And we are to live here?”

“If it suits you. I did not think you would wish to live above ground.” 

A loud rumble filled the air and Loki closed his eyes as he, to all appearances, listened. After another moment, he opened them again, and there was the faintest suggestion of red to his eyes. 

“I shall leave you now. Follow the path to the center of town. Housing has already been arranged.” There was something cool and assessing in his gaze when he looked at Thor. “I can imagine you will need some time to adjust. To that end, I shall leave you here for now to settle. I will return this evening for dinner, but I regret to inform you that the binding ceremony must take place within two days’ time.”

The reminder of why Thor was there had his stomach in knots. “So soon, when we hardly know one another?”

“It is at the behest of both my people and your own. For too long our people have been at war. If the Jötunns are to accept me as their king once and for all, then I must prove to them that I will rule in their best interests. Believe me when I say that I do not wish this any more than you.”

He was gone before Thor could formulate a response, the heavy doors closing behind him. When Thor turned toward the path Loki had indicated, it was to find a woman waiting for them.

“My Lady,” she said as she bowed. 

It took Thor a second to realize she was addressing him, and his hands fisted at his side at the reminder of what he was now. _Who_ he was; no longer a prince of Asgard, but a princ _ess_. 

“King Loki spoke of your arrival.” She looked past him at his friends. “We did not know how many to anticipate. It would seem that we will have more than enough room for your companions. If you would follow me.”

“You are not elf, demon or Jötunn. What realm are you from? Asgard?”

She laughed and shook her head. “Where I am from is of little concern, but do not be deceived by appearances.”

She led the way down the winding path and into the city. Thor marveled at just how vast it was, at the lights that reflected off the cavern walls. He would not have believed such beauty could exist in a world like Jötunheim, and felt ashamed of his misconceptions.

“It is quite beautiful here,” he said to their guide.

“It was not always thus. The Jötunns magic is great, but much of this was done by women of Svartalfheim. They are quite powerful, and it is because of them that we can live so comfortably. When King Loki took the throne three months ago, though, it was still quite cold down here. It is he who brought us warmth.” She spared Thor a glance. “You will be well-kept by the prince. He is not as unkind as he would perhaps lead you to believe. To be sure, he is not the most forthcoming in his care, but that fault lies in his raising. The elves, both light and dark, are not known for their affection. You, however, look to be a woman who could melt the ice that lines his heart.”

“I think you expect too much of me,” Thor murmured into the dark. 

Their guide said nothing more until they reached the small cluster of houses where Thor and his friends would live. She directed the others inside, but stayed him with a touch, drawing him out of hearing range.

“I am not so long to this life, my lady, so I am not as deceived by your appearance as the king was. Whatever your reasons were for coming here as such, I can only guess—and do understand. But I would urge you not to continue this lie for too long. The king does not take to deception well, and he will think you have done him a great disservice when the truth is discovered.”

“It was not meant to be an act of deception, but one of self-preservation.”

“Because you could not marry a man as you were before?” 

Though her tone was one of curiosity, there was something dark and unnerving in her gaze. Thor shivered and looked away.

“No. It is because though I am willing to marry for the benefit of my people, I will not subject myself to certain death to provide a true heir for our two thrones.”

When he turned to look at her once more, it was find pity darkening her eyes. 

“Our king would not have asked that of you.” She reached out and laid a hand over his chest. “The magic used to do this—it is quite powerful. A spell that has long since been lost to many of the realms.”

Thor nodded. “It was my mother who cast it, and she said there was to be no undoing. She spoke of a possible way to break it, but if that is true, the secret lies in Vanaheim, and they will deny her the spell once they learn upon whom it was used. They have little love for Asgard, less so for the offspring of the man who stole their princess.”

The woman stepped back. “I am sorry to hear that, my lady. Should you find yourself in need of anything, ask for me. My name is Ahmah. Speak it and I shall come to you.” 

She bowed once more before heading back up the path, but Thor did not move for several minutes. It was the sound of someone approaching that drew him from his thoughts, and he turned to find Hogun watching him from the shadows.

“How fare you, brother?” Hogun asked.

Thor flinched and shook his head. “You cannot address me as such here. Who I was before we came here—that Thor no longer exists.”

Hogun stepped forward. “Perhaps, but I can see in your eyes that you have not given up hope of returning. Besides, it is only your body that has changed, nothing more. You did not answer my question, though.”

“I am…uncertain. There was a time when I thought to enter Jötunheim to show the giants that Asgard’s power is mightier. I am glad, now, that you made me see reason, if for no other reason than that my deception would have been seen through immediately.” He sighed and turned toward the small cottage Ahmah had indicated was for him. “I think I shall retire for the time being.”

A part of Thor was disappointed when Hogun allowed him to pass with no comment, but a larger part was relieved. He stepped into the cottage, uncertain of what he would find. He had thought perhaps simple furnishings, but the richness of the cottage suggested some thought. The front room was split between a sitting room and a dining room, the table set close to the far left wall. There were two doors, and he followed one into the kitchen, then another into the bedchamber.

The bed was large, bigger even than the one back in Asgard. The color scheme was green and black, and with a start, he realized it matched the clothing Loki had been wearing earlier. It was then that he realized that they would be sharing this cottage. Panic washed through him, and Thor reached for something to grab onto, only to lose his grip the moment his fingers closed around the edge of the doorframe.

He slid to the ground and remained there, his hands splayed out against the soft fur protecting him from the stone floor. Each breath he took felt too large for his lungs, and he feared that he would lose consciousness because of it. As he struggled to regain his composure, he shoved away thoughts of sharing his marriage bed not only with a stranger, but as a woman. The idea repulsed him in a way it did not at the thought of sex as a man with as a man. 

For the first time since his mother had approached him, Thor saw the folly in their actions. In their defense, had it been King Laufey to suggest the proposal, Thor’s life would have been in grave danger for certain, but not even becoming a woman would have changed that. It had not been unreasonable for them to assume something similar from the kinslayer son, but he could see now that Thor had misjudged the new king gravely.

Thor stood and moved to stand beside the bed, his hand shaking almost violently. He did not wonder what it would be like, for already his mind refused to accept such thoughts. He was curious as whether Loki would come to him nightly, or if Thor would be allowed some peace. As though summoned by the thought, there was a whisper of sound and then Loki was standing across from him.

“It is time to eat. If you are concerned after your maidenhood, do not be. I will make no advances until after the binding. If it is privacy that is the issue, then know this: though I am quite content beneath the surface, I do enjoy my time above ground as well.”

The smile Loki sent Thor’s was both mocking and amused, a combination that had Thor itching to show Loki just to whom he was talking. Instead, he turned away, a deliberate slight.

“I shall join you in a moment.” 

Thor looked into the looking glass on the table set before him and felt smug at the irritated expression on Loki’s face. It was a petty move to say the least, but Thor was of no mind to play nice, not when he was still reeling from Ahmah’s revelation.

“As you wish it. But, Princess?” Loki smirked at Thor’s flinch and continued. “My patience will last only so long.”

Loki’s words held both promise and threat, and the echoed through the room long after his departure. Thor’s stomach twisted, and with a last glance in the mirror at the woman staring back at him, Thor followed, swearing that he would forget the man he used to be and embrace the woman he had become, if only to better survive his new life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for graphic-ish het sex toward the end. If that's not your thing, skip it.

The binding ceremony held none of the grandeur found in a wedding on Asgard, and while a part of Thor mourned that, a larger part of her was glad. In the four months that passed since, she had dedicated herself to learning the ways of the people below Jötunheim’s surface, seeing Loki only at meals. Of those shared moments, they were civil to one another at best, the tension between them too strong to cast aside so soon. She knew that the fault lay with her. To see Loki was to remember who she used to be and why she was as she was now. It was hard enough learning to adjust to her new form without the constant worry that at any moment, Loki would demand she fulfill her duties as his wife.

The first month after the binding ceremony had been the hardest, if only because Thor made it so. With the help of Sif and, on occasion, Ahmah, Thor had begun to adjust to her new body. By the end of the second month, she had learned the new weaknesses and strengths the female form gave her. She marveled anew at all that Sif had been forced to accomplish on her own. Yes, Thor had supported her, but though the differences in how a man and a woman fought were small, they were there nonetheless. From the finding of one's center to the grip of the sword, Thor was required to relearn things that had become unconscious knowledge over the course of her former life.

The third and fourth months were spent learning how to work the soil in the great cavern. In that, Ahmah had been most useful, and as the days bled into weeks, Thor and her friends learned a new way of life. There were not many men in the city within Jötunheim's icy depths, and so the arrival of the Warriors Three had been met with great enthusiasm and appreciation. It was, Thor realized, beginning to feel much like home, and that was a thought that kept her up late into the night and woke her long before the city began to wake. 

More than all of that, however, was what Thor learned about herself. She discovered that her hands were made for wielding not only a sword, but a hoe as well. That her determination to learn could result in food placed on the tables of her friends. Thor still lacked any skill in the kitchen, but she could tell when the vegetables were ready for picking and the fruit ripe. She learned how to plait her hair and hold a babe. Above all, she learned that no matter what shape her body, it did not change her desire to succeed or skill with a weapon. She was, no matter what, Thor of Asgard... and through it all, Loki was always there, a constant reminder that Thor had other obligations, and ones she had managed to ignore for far too long. 

Though she knew Loki would not be put off for much longer, she still found it surprising when she arrived at what she currently called home to find him seated at the table. At her entrance, he stood, but there was nothing welcoming in his face. He moved fast, crossing the room to stand before her, but when she would have reached for the sword at her side, both it and its sheath went flying.

“You would dare take arms against me?” The corner of Loki’s mouth tilted up in a cold mockery of a smile, his tone taunting as he stopped just out of reach.

“I would let no man think to threaten me in my home,” Thor replied.

Loki opened his arms wide. “You mean this home? The home that I have very generously made available to you. The home which we do not share though we are bound.” He paused, no doubt for dramatic effect. “Irrevocably.”

“What do you want?” Thor demanded. She felt tense, her skin too tight all of a sudden and she hated the knowing look in his gaze.

“Why, Thor, I would think that much is obvious. I have given you both time and space, but this cannot continue much longer. It is not only me that you are refusing, but the unification of our two realms.”

Something in Thor snapped, then, and she stepped close, stopping only when they were nose-to-nose. It took a great deal of restraint not send her fist straight into his face as she said, “If you wish to bed me, _husband_ , then you will damn well have the balls to say so outright and not threaten the safety of my people. I must admit, I am surprised you have chosen to bring it up at all. I would have thought Jötunns cared not for what their wives might feel on the subject of their virtue.”

The words were cruel and untrue. Thor knew it even as she spat them in Loki’s face, but she _wanted_ to hurt him. Wanted to cut him down at the knees and leave him as hurt as she was. A moment later, she regretted her hasty speech as Loki’s hand, far stronger than she had anticipated, wrapped tight about her wrist. He jerked her forward as he spun on his heel and dragged her into the bedroom. Once there, he all but threw her on the bed.

“You have no right to speak to me thus, not after all I have done for you. Not after all of the generosity I have shown both you and your friends. As to your supposed virtue, do not think for one moment that I have not heard about the conquests of the great Thor. That men and women alike have offered themselves up to you with no provocation. If there is any virtue left to be had, then you may assure yourself that I will relieve you of it shortly, and you can only hope that I will allow you to enjoy our coupling.”

Thor shivered, true fear skating up her spine for the first time since arriving in Jötunheim. She had provoked him, yes, but what he was speaking of… She struggled free of his grip and felt a flash of smug satisfaction at his surprise. In the next instant, she was once more flat on her back, this time bound by the ties from the bed curtains.

Loki was quick to use her immobility to his advantage, moving to sit with his knees braced on either side of Thor’s hips. “I am not sure what infuriates me more: that this is what you believe me to be, a rapist, or that you are so bold as to state such to my face.”

“And if I said that it does not please me to spread my legs for you? What then, Jötunn king? Would you declare war upon my people?”

“Would I, deserving as you are, if only I had so little care for my own kingdom.” Something in his features softened then, and he withdrew from the bed. As he headed for the door, he said, “If it is more time that you require, then I will grant it, but I would never have even thought to force myself upon you. To do so would taint the very bonds that tie us to together, and I would not risk such.”

He was gone before she could form a reply, and Thor was left with the bitter taste of her unjust words and actions. She was content to wallow in her unhappiness, but a few minutes later, a knock came to the front door, and she dragged herself up to answer it. Thor couldn’t help but smile when she found not only Ahmah standing on the other side, but also Sif.

“Your presence is greatly welcome,” Thor greeted.

“Is it?” Ahmah’s eyebrows rose. “It would seem our king was not in the best of moods when he left her moments ago. I thought I would make certain all was well.”

Thor’s grip on the door handle tightened, and she stepped back to make room for her friends to pass by. Sif paused to lay a comforting hand on Thor’s shoulder.

“If he has done anything to bring you harm...” She did not do Thor insult by finishing her sentence, but the genuine concern burned bright in her eyes.

Thor returned the grip, her fingers clenching in the soft leather of Sif’s tunic. “Thank you, but it is not Loki who has done harm.” At the twin questioning looks, Thor sighed and moved to sit at the table. More chairs had been added, carved by Fandral’s own hand, and though they lacked the elegant definition of the elven-made set, they were sturdy. Only when her friends were seated did Thor speak again. 

“What I must ask you—it goes no further than the three of us.”

“Of course.” Ahmah reached to touch the tips of her fingers to Thor’s wrist, then withdrew. “I would not break your confidence… assuming you do not mean to bring harm to my king.”

Thor laughed, the sound hollow even to her own ears. “No, I do not wish to bring harm to King Loki.”

Sif thumped the table with her fist, eyes narrowed and dangerous. “I would not blame you if you did.”

“I appreciate your support, my friend, but it is unnecessary. Since our arrival, King Loki has been nothing but civil, more so than we have. It does him a great injustice to speak so.” Thor was aware of Ahmah’s gaze, but ignored her in favor of reaching out to grasp Sif’s fist. “I need you to set aside your animosity once and for all, for I will need you even more in the coming days.”

Ahmah leaned forward, and her eyes darkened with something akin to anger. “What is it you are planning?” she demanded.

“Nothing to be feared. Loki accused me of taking advantage of his generosity and he is not wrong. I knew he would not force his hand, and I used that to keep him at a distance. The entire reason behind our binding was to bring together our two realms, but we cannot do that if I refuse to consummate our marriage.”

Sif’s lip curled. “And you mean to do so now.” 

It was not a question, but Thor treated it as one. With a nod, she said, “Yes, I do.” Saying it out loud made it feel real, more so than she had thought, and Thor worried her lip, unhappy but aware of the necessity. There were a hundred thoughts going through her head, none of which she intended to speak aloud just yet.

“And if you get with child?” 

Sif looked almost furious as she said the words, and Thor felt a genuine smile tug at the corners of her mouth.

“That is the goal, in the long run; to produce an heir to the two thrones.”

“You speak as though we are two kingdoms in the same world, but we are not. These are two separate worlds; one king cannot rule them both.”

Thor froze, uncertain. She had not taken that into consideration, but now that the knowledge had been brought to her attention, she could see how true Sif’s words were. A wave of hopelessness washed over her, and she sat back, one hand curling into a fist in her lap.

At her side, Ahmah leaned forward, reaching out to clasp Thor’s hand within her own. “No one king could rule two worlds, no, but I do not think King Loki intended for there to be only one heir. There would be two children of your shared blood, brothers who would rule together, in harmony.”

“And how would he decide which child is to rule which kingdom. Would they both be trapped here until they are of age? Or would he have them separated?” Anger was quick to take the place of fear, and Thor drew herself up.

“It would serve you well to ask King Loki yourself, but I do not think he intends to separate the children and have them raised apart. And to keep them here until they are both of age makes little sense, for they would not be knowledgeable in the ways of your people. You are not thinking clearly, my lady, or you would know this for yourself.”

Ahmah’s words rang true, and Thor laughed as she covered her face with one hand. “You are correct, of course. He has proven he is not a cruel man. I have done him a great disservice to believe that he would be so toward our—our children.”

“It is not your fault, my lady. Life has not been easy for you, nor the circumstances of your marriage. Do you still speak weekly with your brother and mother?”

Thor shook her head. “It is too hard to see them so often, though I do not wait longer than a fortnight between our meetings. I have spoken with neither of them on the subject of children and do not intend to do so until I cannot escape the conversation.”

Sif frowned at her. “Is that wise? Surely your mother would wish to know your plan.”

“Yes, but my brother will not take the news as well. He still hopes I will return home, ‘unmolested.’ That is the word he uses. I think he forgets who I used to be.” Thor paused, her brow creasing. “Perhaps _I_ am forgetting who I once was.” She looked down at her hands as she clenched them into two fists. “I can no longer remember the weight of Mjölnir in my hand, nor the feel of the sun on my skin.”

When she looked up, Ahmah’s eyes were bright with sympathy, and she could see her grief mirrored in Sif’s face. After the binding, Loki had requested that she refrain from travelling home for the first year, and though she had encouraged her friends to visit without her, they had been adamant in remaining in Jötunheim. Guilt nipped at her, twisted low in her belly, and she sighed.

“I am not the only one to miss my home. I am sorry.”

Sif blinked and looked away, but her tone was warm. “I do not regret my choice to be here, Thor.” She shook her head, then turned to meet Thor’s gaze head on. “This house is small, too small for the addition of children.”

“It stands separate from the others so that it can be extended when the time comes. If you would like, I can have plans drawn up for the additional rooms. The people here would be happy to help you, especially with the promise of heirs to the thrones.” She paused, then lowered her voice to ask, “How soon do you intend to take the king to your bed.”

Sif let out an outraged sound, but Thor held up her hand before her friend could say anything unpleasant.

“Soon. Perhaps not tonight, but within the week. I owe him—” She glanced down at her hands. “I owe us _both_. Thus far, I have treated our union not as a marriage, but as some unwanted burden. It was unfair of me to do so and yet he did not once address my... transgression.”

“He would not,” Ahmah said. “He would not force himself on you.”

Thor smiled, tight but genuine. “I know. I accused him of such and to say that he was displeased would be a grave understatement. But I digress. My question to you, Ahmah: who is the midwife I should turn to in the event that I become pregnant?” The word left an odd taste on her tongue, bitter yet sweet all at once.

“There are several, all of them quite skilled and trustworthy. I can make introductions, if that pleases you?”

“It does.” Thor looked to Sif. “I would have you gather our friends at Fandral’s so I may break the news to them myself.”

Face grim, Sif replied, “We will stand by you always, Thor.”

“Good, for I think I shall need your support even more in the coming months.” Taking a deep breath, she stood. “Now, the hour grows late and I am in need of some time alone before I meet with everyone. Thank you, Sif, Ahmah, for allowing me to share my thoughts with you.”

“It is no hardship, my lady.” 

Ahmah gripped Thor’s hand tight, then pulled away. As she slipped out the door, Sif drew Thor into a tight embrace.

“I do not care for the circumstance, but I hold out hope that you will find some grain of happiness in this life. When you are ready, if you have questions of a more personal nature...”

“You will be the first I come to, fear not.” 

She pressed a kiss to Sif’s cheek, then followed her to the front door. From where she stood, she could see Fandral and one of the townswomen. Unmarried, Thor thought, though possibly not for long given the brightness of Fandral’s eyes as they conversed. As she closed the door, Fandral caught her eye and waved. She smiled in return, shut the door and made her way back to the kitchen area. She had much to think about before she met with her friends.

**. . .**

The meeting with her friends went far more smoothly than Thor had expected, and it was with peaceful relief that she returned to her home. On the steps leading up to the front door, she paused and tipped her head back to look at the great ceiling. Elvish magic gave them a glimpse of the sky, false stars staring back at her. They were not her own stars, though, but those of the people of Alfheim, just as the seasons were not her own, and it made her ache with the need to see her people, her family.

With a sigh, she let herself inside, the door falling shut behind her as she passed through the living to the bedroom. It was late, but she doubted that Loki would visit after their unpleasant run-in earlier, so rather than retire to the bed, she headed for the bathing room instead, intent on soaking out the worst of her aches from a day of hard labor.

The tub was large and ornate, deep enough that she could sink down into the steaming water when she bathed, long enough for her to stretch out. She twisted the taps, adding a handful of soaps that would create a layer of foam and bubbles as they scented the water, then stripped away her clothes. Hair tied into a knot at the top of her head, Thor was just sinking into the bliss of a too-hot bath when a knock came to the door and she froze. It was on the tip of her tongue to turn him away, but her decision to move forward had to be started sooner or later.

“Come in,” she called out.

The door opened, but Loki did not venture forth. He leaned against the frame, long legs crossed at the ankle, arms folded over his chest. He looked tired and old despite his youth, but when he saw her chin deep in bubbles, the corners of his mouth twitched up in an almost smile.

“I came to apologize for my actions earlier.”

Thor snorted and looked down at the bubbles in her hands. “Apologize, if you must, but know that if you do, you are forcing me to apologize for four months of unjust behavior and I find the idea of recalling every single one of my transgressions tiresome and impossible.” She looked at him through her lashes. “Unless, of course, you have kept record.”

Her words earned her a wry smile as Loki pushed away from the door from and crossed to sit on the floor, his back against the tub. The air around him hummed with sadness, and without understanding why, Thor reached for him, sliding her fingers into his hair. He looked so _normal_ , and she felt terrible all over again at how she had treated him. He was not the monster she had been so determined to believe him to be.

“When my mother—Queen Sha’deth of Alfheim, not my birth mother—first told me how I came to be her son, I suffered a long period of rage. To learn that I was born and rejected was the ultimate insult. The ultimate...” He broke off with a shake of his head. “There are no words for how I felt in that moment. The elves are not known for their empathy, and so my mother had no kind words other than, ‘I chose you.’ For almost three months, I was reckless in my use of magic, ugly and vicious in my need to lash out. After a time, my magic was— _restrained_ , a punishment I thought worse than death.” He sighed and tipped his head back against the edge of the tub. “My mother cared for me, raised me as one of her own and showed me no disfavor, a considerable feat, but always, I had felt out of place, foreign.”

“How did you come to be her son? There were rumors, but I realize now just how far from the truth those can be.”  
Loki twisted around to meet her gaze, his eyes narrowed and searching. After a moment, he nodded. “It is true that there are not many females among my race, which makes breeding hard. Of the children born to mixed parentage, only one in five will show the qualities of a frost giant, and even then, they are notably weaker in body. It is rare, however, for a child of pure Jötunn blood to be born...” Loki paused, and Thor could see his struggle for words in his expression. “Stunted,” he said at last. “It is thought to be a sign of weakness of power. When I was born and it was discovered that my body was not strong, I was sent away out of shame. Laufey claimed I was stillborn, and his people believed him. I was to be left on the very edges of our world, but the nurse charged with seeing to my disposal was from Alfheim. Her husband had died in the great battle against your people, and she saw it as an opportunity with three possibilities: leave me to die; take me to Asgard where I would be raised with indifference and ignorance of my heritage, or take me to her people.”

Thor opened her mouth to rebuke the part about her home, but the memory of Odin standing before their people—self-righteous and firm in his narrow-minded beliefs—rushed up. Though it pained her to admit it, she knew Loki was right. Her father would have taken on the duty of raising Loki, but he would not have loved him, not as a father should. Instead, she said, “I would have been proud to call you my brother, had it come to that. And I think that, though I do not know you well yet, I am proud to call you husband.”

Loki’s expression went from melancholic to startled as he blinked at her, then pensive. “Under different circumstances, I would have loved you as a brother does his sister.” 

_Perhaps more so_ , was not said, but Thor could hear the words echoing through her head all the same, and felt her face heat at the idea. She cleared her throat and leaned back against the tub, her eyes drifting close.

“This city beneath the surface, it was built during your father’s reign, was it not?”

“It was, though its splendor was much less. Within a month’s time after his death, those with the power to do so turned it into what you see now, but before that, it was nothing more than a great cavern.”

She opened her eyes to meet his gaze. “It is beautiful.”

They lapsed into silence after that, neither stirring until the water began to cool. With a yawn, Thor reached for the stopper at the bottom and pulled it free. When she made to stand, Loki offered her a thick bathing sheet, his back turned.

“I should be going. It is late and you should get some rest.”

“Stay?” There was no hesitation before the word slipped free, and that was perhaps the most startling part for her. When Loki turned to face her, she dropped her gaze. “I cannot—not yet, but stay. Tonight.”

He stared at her, assessing the honesty of her offer, and when he seemed to find no deceit, nodded. “I should like that.”

In the bedroom, Loki turned his back once more giving her the privacy to exchange her towel for nightclothes. When she was done, she pulled loose the knot holding her hair up and brushed it out, plaiting it to keep it from tangling during her sleep. As she slipped beneath the covers, he stripped off all save his leggings, but rather than lie down beside her, he sat on the edge of the bed, his back to her. 

“I appreciate this gesture, and so I will ask you now, are you certain? I will not be angry if you are not truly ready to share your bed with me.”

Thor resisted the urge to reach out, to press her hand to the skin drawn tight between his shoulders. Hands folded in her lap, she said, “I am certain.” Nothing else to say, she rolled to her side and when the bed dipped behind her, she was proud of the fact she did not flinch. The candles on the bedside table flickered out of their own accord, and as the darkness descended around them, she let out a shaky breath.

“You are uncomfortable.”

Thor rolled to face him, her eyes straining against the dark to see Loki. “It is a new situation. If you are worried about my sensibilities, you need not be. I am not afraid to share my bed with you.” She did reach out then, finding Loki’s hand beneath the covers and grasping it tight. “I cannot promise this will be easy, or that I will always be pleasant to be around, but I will try.”

From beside her there was a soft exhalation. “That is all I ask.”

**. . .**

Thor woke slowly the next morning, aware of warmth at her back and an arm about her waist. For a moment she panicked, the memory of the night before dim in her mind. It was only when the body behind her tensed that she recalled the reason she was not alone in her bed, and then fought to relax, hand tight on Loki’s wrist when he would have pulled away.

“It will take some getting used to, but you do not need to rush away.” 

She yawned, shivering a little at the faint tingling of magic around her. When she twisted around, Loki was watching her through sleep heavy eyes. The perpetual frown that tugged at his brow was gone and the corners of his mouth were tilted up: not quite a smile, but close.

They lay there in companionable silence for a bit longer, until Thor’s bladder could wait no longer. She stretched as she stood and padded into the bathroom to take care of her morning routine. When she re-emerged, Loki did the same, and she took advantage of his absence to dress for the day. In the kitchen, she prepared a light breakfast of boiled eggs and porridge. She was just sitting down when Loki joined her, and she waited for him to join her before eating.

“What will you do today?” Loki inquired.

“I am to meet with Ahmah later this afternoon, but before that, there is work to be done in the fields. What will you do?” She paused, a thought occurring to her and rephrased her question. “What _do_ you do? Back home, the king would meet with his council and hold audience with his people, but I know that not all realms are the same.”

Loki sipped at his tea, his gaze thoughtful. “There is little to be done above unless a Jötunn comes forward asking to seek out a wife. Much of my time is spent adding my magic to the land to keep this world from caving in beneath our feet.”

Thor nodded. Ahmah had explained that because Jötunheim had no seasons aside from winter, it was in a constant state of death. The idea was terrifying when she sat down and really thought about it, and she wondered if it was surviving only through the force of Loki’s magic, or if there was some other reason it had not yet fallen apart. When she voiced her question, he shrugged.

“My magic is a large contributor to why Jötunheim continues to exist, but beyond that, it thrives on the existence of my people. As our numbers dwindle, so does the stability of this world.”

He did not sound unhappy at the thought of Jötunheim’s eventual fate, but Thor chose not to comment on it. Her own home would thrive for centuries to come, a thought that comforted her. Done with her food, Thor carried her plate to the sink to be washed. The silence that stretched between them lacked its previous tension, and when she turned around, it was to find Loki watching her, his gaze unreadable. 

“If there is no pressing business for you to attend, perhaps you would like to join me today?” Thor bit her lip a moment later, certain he would refuse. As the king of Jötunheim, it was unlikely he would consider spending the day getting his hands dirty when there were plenty of others who were far more willing.

“I do not wish to interrupt your routine—”

There was enough hesitancy in his tone to make Thor more assertive in her next words. “If I meant the invitation to be empty, I would not ask at all. I have never been one to suffer company if I did not want it.” With anyone else, she would tease, but Thor was not yet certain enough of their relationship to risk Loki taking offense at words meant in jest. She offered him a smile instead and retrieved her boots.

Loki had dressed in brown suede leggings, a dark green tunic and soft boots, clothing that reminded her of the ones Ahmah favored. It was not the first time she had noticed, but it gave her pause that morning. 

“Your clothing, where does it originate from?”

“It is the dress I adopted in Alfheim. The Jötunns are not bothered with clothing, but I find them comfortable.” He took in Thor’s outfit with a critical eye, a combination of unforgiving leather and thick cotton. “If you would like something similar…?”

She hesitated before nodding. As much as she liked her clothing, as the days grew longer and the temperature warmer—weather changes created by the Elven women to promote healthier crops—she found herself overheated by early midday. Ahmah had mentioned it once, but Thor had refused out of pride.

“Thank you.”

There was no pressing need to create conversation as they left the house and headed toward the fields. The early summer crops were already ready for picking, the scent of various berries and tree fruits rich in the air. There were children running about, their faces already stained purple, red and blue from their endeavors, and Thor smiled as she accepted a bright red strawberry from a chubby-fingered boy.

She took a bite and savored the sweet burst of flavor on her tongue. The strawberries in Asgard had never been as delicious, their color dull and scent lacking. When she opened her eyes, Loki was regarding her, eyes hooded and an odd twist to his lips. Without giving it a second thought, Thor brought the strawberry up to his lips and his brow furrowed even as he leaned in to take a bite.

“They taste like home,” Loki said. 

He looked almost sad as he said it, and Thor slipped her hand into his, tugging him down the line of trees. At the base of a large peach tree, she let go and began the short climb up. She picked one that felt heavy with juice, and dropped back to the ground.

“When we arrived in Jötunheim, Volstagg had several of these in his pack. Ahmah shared one with some of the other women and it was love at first sight, or so I have been led to believe. They planted the seeds and used their magic to speed the growth of the trees. Have you tasted one, yet?”

“I have not.”

“They are one of Asgard's greatest accomplishments.” 

As she spoke, she sliced open the fruit with her knife, holding half up to Loki’s mouth. Her gaze did not leave his face as he took his first bite and when she pulled her hand back, it was to lick away the trail of juice sliding down her wrist. Her breath stuttered when he stopped her, a low, unhappy noise escaping him as he caught her arm in a loose grip and tugged her hand back. He finished the piece of peach still clutched in her hand, but rather than release her, he let his tongue slide over each finger, until they were cleaned of juice. Thor could feel the heat rise in her face and she ducked her head, not quite embarrassed, but close. A second later, she was free and Loki was staring at her with something akin to horror.

“My apologies,” he said. He made to back away, but Thor was quick, catching hold of his arm at the elbow and drawing him toward her.

“No more apologies, Loki. We are man and wife; let us act as such within reason…for now.” She winked at him and laughed at the sly smile he wore.

Thor’s good mood remained throughout the rest of the day as she and Loki worked side by side, plucking fruit from trees and watching as the children ate almost as many berries as they put in their baskets. After lunch, she joined Sif in the training area they had roped off. It had been Sif’s idea to teach those who desired it self-defensive moves, the children in particular. As pleasant as most of the townspeople were, Thor was not so naïve as to think that there were no bad seeds. Loki remained on the sidelines for much of the lesson, and when Thor bested three of the older boys at once, the heat of his gaze left her face hot and her skin flushed.

“You are very skilled,” he said when she rejoined him. He offered her a cup of water, and she drank it down before replying.

“My people are warriors first and foremost. I was trained to fight from a very young age.”

Loki nodded. It was only then that she noticed he was holding a roll of parchment, and when he noticed her gaze, he held it out to her. 

“Your friend, Ahmah, asked me to deliver it. Something has come up and she said would not be able to make your meeting this afternoon.”

“Oh, I did not see her.” 

She accepted the parchment and opened it, unsurprised to find that it was the new plans for the additions to the house. She offered it to Loki without comment, waiting for his reaction.

“Did you wish for separate rooms?”

With a shake of her head, Thor pointed to the second bedroom. “Not as such. I was thinking more along the lines of a nursery.”

Loki frowned as his gaze moved from Thor to the parchment and back again. “A nursery,” he said, his voice flat. “If you are doing this because you think I expect it of you—”

“I think it is expected, yes, because the entire point of our marriage was to unite our worlds and there is no better way to do that than with a child. But if you mean, did I think you would demand a child so early in the relationship, then no, that is not why I have requested the plans. Four months ago, I would have suspected you of such, but I should like to think that while we still have much to learn about one another, I have moved beyond the point at which I make such assumptions about your person.”

Her words had an immediate effect on Loki. The tension that had built in shoulders eased, and his expression relaxed into something closer to a smile. It was startling for her to realize just how good looking he was. Not just handsome, though he was certainly that, but beautiful as well. She wanted to reach out and cup his cheek, then remembered that as his wife, she could do so and did. The look he gave her was worth the moment of doubt she suffered.

“I cannot promise that I will be an easy person to live with, and that my pride will not come between us, brief though it will be. My temperament was a thing of much renown back home, ashamed as I am to admit it, but if you are patient with me, I promise that you will not be disappointed, not for long.”

A crease formed between Loki’s brows as he replied. “We are evenly matched then, I should think, for I cannot promise that I will always be as patient or understanding as you may desire, for those things are not in my nature. Nor, unfortunately, is the ability to show affection readily. I was raised by those who keep their feelings to themselves no matter who the recipient and it will not be easy for me to be otherwise.”

It struck her just how odd the two of them were, and for just a moment, Thor felt _normal_. She grinned, broad and open and probably with too many teeth, but in the face of Loki’s tentative smile, she felt nothing but relief.

“Well, if I’ve got a free afternoon, perhaps we should see how many desserts we can make from these peaches.”

“I would enjoy that,” Loki said.

It was perhaps the best thing Thor had heard all day.

**. . .**

They passed through another three months following the same routine. Four days a week, Loki would join Thor both in the fields and at the training arena, not quite at ease yet, but getting there. For her part, Thor found it, not _easy_ , but not as hard as she would have imagined, to adjust to his near constant company. Fandral and Volstagg had begun to relax around him, though Hogun always watched Loki through narrowed eyes, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

At night, they would lie side-by-side, slowly drifting closer until it was natural to fall asleep entwined. In the evenings, though, they talked. Thor shared with him edited stories of her childhood and listened attentively as Loki described life in Alfheim. Though he had claimed that the light elves were sparse in their affections, she could sense in him a wealth of emotion just waiting to be released. She thought of him as he was and wondered, on occasion, what he would have been like had he been raised in Jötunheim under his father’s cold and loveless hand, or in Asgard, as a son of Odin.

She was pondering the idea of Loki being raised as her brother, and without thought, said, “We would have been close.”

Glancing up from his plate, Loki looked at her, brows drawn together in confusion. “I do not follow.”

The corner of Thor’s mouth quirked up. “If you had been raised in Asgard by my father. He would not have been kind to you, though. For all that father swore he was a man of peace and would not raise a hand against his enemy, nor was he inclined to show them much kindness. Not unless he saw greater benefit. Odin loved my brothers and I, but he was a hard man, and he was not generous with his care. You would have known, always, that he did not think of you as his own.” The thought, true as it was, saddened Thor. “But I would have. I would have loved you more than anything.”

Loki appeared caught off guard and more than a little stunned by the ferocity in Thor’s voice. “You cannot know that,” he said at last, looking away.

“Oh, but I can. I love Baldur with all my heart and we have always been close, more so than I ever was with Váli, but that was only when we grew older. When we were children—” She paused, ashamed at what she was about to admit. “When we were children, I was not as kind to Baldur and Váli. Neither were as strong as I, nor as skilled in fighting. I thought them dull and not very clever.”

“Then you would have loathed me more.” Loki stood, abrupt and angry as he cleaned away his dishes.

“But you are _very_ clever, and more than that, you have your magic. In fighting, you would not have been my match for certain, but you would have been able to defeat me in other ways.”

There was a tick in Loki’s jaw as he leaned down into Thor’s space, one hand braced on the back of her chair, the other on the table. “You say that, princess, as though you know it to be true, but I can assure you—” 

“I would have teased you. Taunted you. I would have begged and pleaded, and in the end, you would have proven you could best me. And maybe we would have competed for father’s affections, unfairly because you were not his by blood, and maybe I would never have spoken the words aloud for fear of what you would say, ever the sharp-tongued brat that I have seen you to be, but you would have been my world. Sooner or later.”

The anger that had been building up inside Loki, making his eyes burn bright and his lips draw tight, bled out of him with such swiftness, Thor thought he would faint. He sank into the chair beside hers, and a short, breathless laugh escaped him.

“To live in a home such as that, with a father who did not love me—I would not have turned out well, I should think.”

Thor shrugged. “I would have brought you back to me eventually, no matter how far you fell.”

“How can you be so certain of something that has never— _can_ never—happen?”

She met his gaze then, and let him see even as she said the words. “Because I believe that what I feel for you now would follow us no matter what path our lives took. As brother and sister, enemies...lovers. There would be differences, yes, but I think, in the end, we would always find ourselves here.”

“And where is here?” 

The question was no more than a whisper, a soft exhale of words that had almost no sound, but reached Thor’s ears nonetheless.

“Here...here is...here.”

Gathering her courage about her, Thor brought her lips to Loki’s in the softest of kisses, chaste and nervous, but real. When she pulled back, Loki was watching her in stunned silence. For just a moment, he looked incredibly young and vulnerable, far closer to his age than he acted under normal circumstances. Something in his gaze shifted then, and when he stood, Thor followed.

“I cannot say anything for the lives we did not live, but for this one, I can say that though my methods were less than perfect, I do not regret bringing you... here.”

It was as much the sincerity of his words as it was the sense of rightness of the moment that had Thor leaning in to press her lips to his once more. She took Loki’s passive response as a combination of uncertainty and surprise, both understandable given how tense their relationship had been in the beginning. It was awkward, too, to kiss with them both seated as they were. Mind made up, Thor stood, her grip on Loki’s tunic forcing him to do the same. They were almost of the same height, a convenience she took advantage of so as not to break the kiss. 

As Thor backed them closer and closer toward the bedroom door, she coaxed Loki’s mouth open with teeth and tongue. One hand was wrapped tight around his shoulder for balance, the other teasing at the laces of his tunic. It was only when they broke apart that he seemed to realize where they were, and myriad expressions passed over his features: a hint of confusion, surprise, hope and fondness. 

His gaze shifted past her to the bed they had been sharing for so many months now, and when he looked at her again, there was a gentleness there she had not seen before. His hands moved up from her waist, followed the natural curves of her body to cup her face, and he drew her into a kiss so deep she had to rise up on her toes. 

In the bedroom, Loki was slow to undress her, his hands sliding with reverence over every patch of skin bared. His mouth was hot against her mouth, his teeth sharp as they nipped a trail down her neck. He only made to remove his own clothing when she was completely naked, and it was done in a flurry of movement. In the next breath, he was pressing her down against the bed.

Loki slid one hand into Thor’s hair, his fingers tangling in her curls as he pressed a bruising kiss to the underside of her jaw. She was so caught up in the feel of his skin against her own that she did notice he was speaking at first. 

“—not too late to change your mind.”

Thor hummed and twisted her head to the side, catching his thumb between her teeth. She bit down gently as she looked up at him from beneath her lashes, and was rewarded with a notable flush along his cheeks and pupils gone wide with desire. It was almost enough to make her forget her own uncertainty, but when his hand left her hair to travel down the length of her body, Thor tensed.

The look in Loki’s eyes was a mix of confusion and disbelief. “No one—no one has touched you before?”

She appreciated the genuine shock in his voice and took it as a compliment, but there something else, something that twisted and warmed low in her belly when he did not pull away as she shook her head. “It would not have been befitting of my status as an heir to the throne of Asgard,” she replied. In truth, before Loki had forced himself into her life, Thor had lain with many of both genders, but in the body she wore now, she was, much to her embarrassment, a virgin.

A low, almost sad sound escaped Loki, and she half expected to withdraw. Instead, the hand sliding over her ribs gentled, the tips of his fingers drawing a shiver out of her as he trailed them up. The light in his eyes was hungry and possessive, but not threatening, and she sighed as he cupped the soft swell of her breast in his hand.

“It is a privilege, then, to be the first to see you thus. I can only hope that I will not disappoint you.”

Thor laughed at the very idea. “I should think that to be _my_ line.” 

Loki smiled in return, but made no further move to touch her than the faint brush of his thumb over the peak of her breast. When he continued to only stare down at her, Thor resisted the urge to roll her eyes and reached for him, drawing him close once more.

“Just because no other has touched me, dear husband, does not mean that I have not taken the liberty to touch myself.” In truth, it had taken Thor nearly a full two months before she could bear to do so, but once she had discovered the pleasure to be found by her own hands, she had indulged frequently and without shame. She put to use all those nights of exploration as she took hold of Loki’s hand and drew it down between her thighs. “Like this,” she murmured against his lips.

The fingers that slid into her were tentative at first, but grew bolder with every sound that escaped her. When his thumb caught on her clit, she gasped and pushed her hips up. Tempting as it was to close her eyes and lose herself in all the sensations, Thor kept them open, gaze locked on Loki’s face. His brow was knit in concentration, and it was on the tip of her tongue to chastise him for being so serious, but in the next second, all thought was lost. The fingers pressed deep inside her had found a place Thor had not discovered, and she twisted her fingers in the sheets beneath her, desperate for some means of anchoring herself against the onslaught of pleasure already building within her.

Thor was so distracted by the fingers inside her, she failed to notice Loki had moved until she felt his mouth on her, his tongue sliding down slick and demanding to join his fingers. The shock of his lips closing around the sensitive hidden nub had her crying out, and all too soon, she went tipping over the edge, the force of her orgasm bringing tears to her eyes. Thor was still shivering in when Loki moved back up, and she could taste herself on his lips when they kissed. Against her thigh, Loki was hot and hard, and though Thor had yet to come down completely, she had enough of her senses back to reach for him. His cock was smooth in her hand, the skin silky, and when she stroked him, Loki groaned against her mouth.

“Come on,” Thor whispered. 

As she spoke, she guided him into her, her gaze focused on his face and the emotions flitting over it. Her body was soft in the aftermath of her orgasm, but it was a stretch to accommodate him. Loki froze after the initial breach, then curled his body over, his mouth sliding along her jaw. Thor was not prepared for the feeling of teeth catching hold of her earlobe and even less so for the sharp bite he delivered at the same moment that he thrust forward. She gasped; both at the pain in her ear and where she was being filled, startled. The hurt was brief, and soothed away as nipping kisses spread over her shoulder and down her neck.

The first roll of Loki’s hips had Thor arching up, the dull ache of being stretched was overshadowed by the heat coiling in her belly. Too soon, she could feel herself drawing close to the edge again, and she shook with the sheer force of trying to hold back. She felt greedy, coming again so soon, but it was clear Loki would not be denied. His hand slipped between them, his fingers finding her with unerring accuracy. It took only a few rough drags of his thumb to have her gasping, and she went tight around him, her legs stilling the insistent thrust of his hips as she rode out the waves of her second orgasm. 

When she was spent and pliant, Loki leaned over her, fastened his teeth to the curve of her neck and began to move in earnest. Thor could feel wetness gathering at the corners of her eyes, but there was no strength left in her to wipe it away. Loki must have sensed it though, for he pulled back, his mouth gentle as he kissed away the damp trail. He ducked his head to suck a mark over her collar bone, then another lower down. When his lips closed around her nipple, she cried out. It was then that he came, hips jerking as he emptied himself inside her.

Later, after he had withdrawn and moved to clean them up with a soft, wet cloth, Loki slid back into the bed beside her. Thor was exhausted, her body sore in a way she had never experienced, and when Loki reached for her, she almost pulled away. She allowed herself to be pulled into the curve of his body, and after a few minutes of silence, began to relax. She was just drifting off when she felt his hand splay low over her belly, and odd heat spreading from the five points of his fingertips. She was too tired to question it, though, and fell asleep to the fan of Loki’s breath across the back of her neck.


	3. Chapter 3

Thor was in the middle of the cornfield when Loki appeared, their son, Móði, snug in the sling across Loki’s chest. Móði’s twin brother, Nari, had been sick as of late, and was no doubt home with Hogun, sleeping. She paused in her work, handing off her basket to one of the other women, and reached for her son. 

“You should sit while you feed him. There are enough here that your assistance will not leave anyone overburdened.”

With a nod to the women closest to her, Thor followed Loki out of the field. She was down to harvesting for only a few hours in the morning with at least one break to feed the boys. In the afternoons, she moved to the training arena, bringing their daughter, Thrúd, with her. Only Fandral had objected to the idea of Thrúd being trained so young, and even then, Thor knew it had more to do with the fact that Fandral enjoyed doting upon his “niece.”

They stopped under a large tree, boughs heavy with large, odd-shaped leaves, and Loki slipped the sling free, helping Thor to adjust it for her own body. When they were seated, she unlaced her shirt and settled Móði at her breast. Though she was long past the point of feeling self-conscious at being so exposed, Móði was old enough that he was easily distracted while nursing, and she found it tiresome to redirect him over and over again.

When she looked up, Loki was regarding her with an expression caught between sadness and pride. She wondered what dark thoughts were causing her husband worry now, but did not mention it. Loki was still very private on many subjects and would only speak his mind when ready to do so.

“How is Nari?” Thor inquired.

“Well enough. The healer was by earlier and said that his breathing has eased. Hogun attends him as we speak and promised to fetch us if necessary.”

They lapsed into silence again; the only sound that of Móði gulping down his meal. After a few minutes, she slipped her finger into the corner of his mouth to unlatch him, then switched sides. The new position had Móði’s head further from Loki, and he reached out to stroke his fingers over the thick patch of soft hair. It was light, like Thor’s, though only time would tell if that was to remain the same.

“We leave in a fortnight,” Loki said. 

His words caught Thor off-guard, and she spent a moment trying to decipher what he meant. When understanding dawned, she grinned.

“Mother will be overjoyed to see the children again. She will be surprised how much they have grown in the last five months.” Thor turned to look at Loki to find him was staring off into the distance, his expression closed off. “What troubles you, husband?”

Without facing her, Loki asked, “If I allowed it, would you choose to stay in Asgard, rather than to return here?”

Four years ago, Thor would have said yes without hesitating. Now she found herself considering her response. When she spoke, she was careful in her choice of words. “I would, perhaps, choose to stay longer in Asgard. A year, maybe, so that the children can come to know my home world as I do, but I would return, always.”

Loki’s lip curled up at her reply, a scowl darkening his handsome features. “The Thor that first came here would have seized the opportunity to leave Jötunheim. You have changed much since your arrival; I cannot help but wonder if you have forgotten who you truly are or were.”

Thor shrugged. “There is some truth to your words, of that I am certain, but I am not the only one who has changed. When first I arrived, we were angry, desperate and afraid. Now we have moved past that. I do not regret the life I lead here, or the children I have borne.” She locked gazes with him then and added, “I do not regret our bonding, either. That you think so little of me—”

With a vicious snarl, Loki stood. His eyes flashed and his chest heaved with every breath, but Thor remained unflinching. There was no truth in his anger, but it puzzled her nonetheless. Until just then, Loki had not appeared unhappy with their life, and though Thor knew she played no real part in whatever he was feeling, she could not help but wonder what was. When she made no reply to his outburst, his shoulders slumped, defeat written across his features.

“I am not so foolish as to believe you are truly happy here.”

“Would you be, so far from friends, family and home? I have adjusted and I am content.” She paused, lowering her gaze to the now sleeping Móði. “Come with us. To Asgard. In the last four years, you have not crossed into my realm once. It is no Jötunheim, certainly, but it is beautiful.” As she spoke, she laced up the front of her shirt and shifted her son to her shoulder.

Loki shook his head, but rather than disagree outright, he said, “Perhaps, though I do not think I shall be well-received. I demanded your hand in marriage, have limited your visitations without true reason and have not allowed anyone from Asgard into Jötunheim. I will be lucky if I am not imprisoned the moment I set foot on Asgard soil.”

“You do not give my people enough credit. Never have I complained, not even to my mother. I admit that being allowed to visit only for a week at a time is hard, but I go at least once every two months. The children are not estranged from their grandmother, they are well-loved…”

“You have become docile. _Tame_.” 

The words hung in the air between them, both an accusation and a condemnation. Thor flinched away from the truth in them, ashamed of how right Loki was. In the years since her arrival in Jötunheim, she had gone from Asgard’s greatest warrior to a village woman and wife. Yes, she still trained, but it had been too long since last she wielded Mjölnir. On every trip home, she would spend at least an hour’s time with her beloved hammer, always relieved when the handle warmed in her grip, the weight familiar.

“I have become what you desired, have I not?” Thor demanded at last. “You wished to neutralize the threat and you have done so. If I have failed you in some other way, _my lord_ , then you will have to tell me, for I see only your triumph from where I sit. You have no right to judge me, for I sacrificed my entire future for the sake of my people at _your_ whim.”

With that, Thor stood, Móði clutched tight to her chest. She had not felt such anger in a while, and it burned low in her belly, made her chest tight. Without a backward glance, she strode away from their spot beneath the tree, allowing her feet to guide her to the house. No sooner had she reached the path than Hogun appeared at the door with Volstagg just behind him, Nari sleeping on his shoulder.

“You look to be in a foul mood,” Hogun noted, his tone even. He reached for Móði, and held him with ease. A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth, but it was Volstagg who spoke.

“And now we see why. Hogun, I think it is time we made ourselves scarce. A lover’s tiff is no place for us.” 

Hogun studied Thor’s face, his gaze darkening for a brief moment as he read the tension in the lines bracketing her eyes. “Hmm. Fandral is planning a feast for lunch. Perhaps we should start there. The children can sleep in the bedroom,” he added when Thor reached for her son.

He sidestepped her, his mouth tightening into a thin line as he passed Loki. Volstagg was slower to move, and his gaze was thoughtful as it slid from Thor to Loki and back again. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he paused to look back over his shoulder. There was no real concern in his expression, just awareness, as though he knew things were about to come to a head.

Thor stormed through the house, the door slamming shut behind her. It opened again a moment later, and when she turned, it was to find Loki watching her, his top lip curled in the beginning of a snarl. He picked the conversation back up as though no time had passed since Thor last spoke, following her to the door of their bedroom.

“What do you know of sacrifice, Thor of Asgard?” Loki demanded. “Have you not enjoyed your time in Jötunheim? In my bed? You claim to understand what it means to suffer, what it means to lose your identity to the will of another, but you are still a child of Odin. You know who your parents are and you were not rejected at birth, sent away to die because you did not live up to the expectations of a power-hungry father.”

“You know nothing of my life, Loki Laufeyson. Do not pretend otherwise!” 

Thor was of a mind to slam the door in Loki’s face, furious in the face of his cool disregard, but when she tried to do so, Loki blocked her. She stumbled back as he advanced, eyes wide as she attempted to evade his grip. Too late, she noticed the gleam of metal clutched in his hand and fear swept through her, chilling Thor’s blood as she found herself trapped against the wall with no means of escape. 

Thor opened her mouth, intending to scream should the blade touch her person, but the only sound to fill the room was that of the laces of her blouse being cut open. She sucked in a startled breath, her eyes wide and her heart hammering in her chest. Her fingers ached to feel Mjölnir’s comforting weight in her hand, and wondered what could have come over Loki to cause such a change in his manner toward her. She had a passing thought as to whether he would truly leave their children motherless when she noticed he was speaking once more.

“Is it so terrible, this gift of womanhood?”

Loki murmured the words so low and soft that at first, Thor believed she had imagined them. When the meaning sank in, it was like a cold dousing of water and she gasped.

“What—?”

A hand stroked up her chest, but it stopped short of touching her breasts, despite the familiarity of the touch. Countless nights spent naked in bed together, and only then did Loki show real hesitance. Loki glanced up at her then, the green of his eyes darkened. He did not respond, merely shifted his weight so that she was not so much trapped as embraced, and the touch of his hand, when he flattened it out, was not sexual but reassuring. 

“I had thought after a few weeks you would either adjust fully or admit to me this deception that you wear. Had you meant ill by it, I would have ended the charade myself. I did not think you would lose yourself to this form, forget the person you once were for the one you had become.” He quirked a sad smile at her. “How long I have contemplated baiting you just to see if you would reveal the truth. I should have done so sooner, for perhaps I could have spared you this indignity. Tell me, Thor Odin _son_ , what ill-conceived advice convinced you to alter your form?”

“You knew?”

Thor’s fury was fast to unfold, and stronger than Loki must have guessed, for the bindings holding her down snapped, the heavy curtains surrounding the bed shuddering. She lunged, intending to dislodge him; Loki arrested her movement with a raised hand and a warning look.

“Where I was raised, there are three forms: male, female and neuter. There are those who retain the form they were born with, those who exchange one form for another permanently, and those who chose to flit back and forth between the three forms, either undecided or just more comfortable unbound to any single form. It is a talent I achieved at an early age. In fact, when first you arrived, I thought perhaps the same was to be said of you. Imagine my disappointment to learn that, in fact, you had altered your shape based on the lies of another.”

Thor trembled with rage. “It is not the fault of my people that we were led to think the Jötunns killed their other-realm wives. That is an untruth that your kind has encouraged us to believe.”

“Perhaps, but the moment you saw that was not the case, you could have told me the truth. Instead, you continued your deception. Now I want to know _why_?”

All of Thor’s fight left her, and she sagged against her invisible bonds. “Because it cannot be undone. The spell to undo the transformation was lost long ago by all but my mother’s people and they guard that secret with their lives. I admit I deceived you, but I hardly see how knowing the truth could have changed anything. Until the day I die, I am trapped in this form. There—there was hope, at first, that my mother could convince her father to impart the spell to reverse it, but they have remained steadfast in their determination not to do so.”

A strange expression passed over Loki’s features, and though he did not move, he released the spell holding her. Rather than use her freedom to extricate herself, she sank back against the pillows and turned her face away from him. Shame burned her through as she said,

“I resigned myself to this new me not long after the binding ceremony, but it was not until—until I gave birth to our daughter that I truly accepted it. And you are correct. For too long, I have withheld what is rightfully yours.”

Loki let out a hiss of anger, but the hand the encircled Thor’s neck was gentle, his fingers loose enough in their grip that they did not bruise. When he leaned down to speak in her ear, his voice was little more than a whisper and his was breath warm against the side of Thor’s neck.

“Lovely as you are in this form, I would have to be blind not to see that you will never be happy. I wish, Thor of Asgard, that you had trusted me with this sooner, for I could have spared you these last few years of grief.” 

He shifted his weight and the hand at Thor’s throat slipped down to lay over her chest. His fingers fanned out, brushing the soft curve of her breasts, and at the same time, he closed the distance between their mouths. The kiss was undemanding, tinged with remorse, and Thor had half a mind to ask what was wrong when the tips of Loki’s fingers bit into her skin. 

There was a moment of nothing, no sensation, no noise, then all of her senses came alive at once and she felt almost mad from the onslaught. She gasped as heat spread out from the five points of Loki’s fingers to move through her body, but when she opened her mouth to cry out, no sound emerged. It was over in the next breath, and Thor sagged back against the bed, eyes closed and gasping for breath.

“I admit that I will miss the version of you as a woman, but I would lying if I said I did not find you even more attractive like this.”

Thor opened one eye to look at him, uncertain of what he meant at first. It was only when Thor reached up to wipe away the small trickle of blood leading from Loki’s nose down to his chin that the change was noticed, and Thor jerked upright.

“What—?” Thor began, then stopped. 

Four years was an impossibly long time to go without hearing his true voice, and for a moment, Thor did not recognize himself. Loki, for his part, had used the distraction to move a safe distance away, and he was perched at the end of the bed, watching Thor’s movements with assessing eyes.

“If I had known sooner that you were miserable in that form, I would have offered to undo the spell. I thought perhaps your anger stemmed from the binding. When your silence stretched on in the following years, I wondered if perhaps you had no memory of who you once were. There was no other reason I could see for you not tell me the truth.”

Thor studied his hands in silence for several long seconds, then looked up. “Were it so easily explained,” he replied. 

He made to scoot back, then grimaced. The clothing he had been wearing earlier was ill-suited to his current form, and they cut into his skin. He struggled out of the bed, wrenching the leather trousers open so he could peel them off. Loki let out an odd sound, but when Thor glanced up at him, Loki’s head was turned and his gaze averted.

“Try,” Loki said.

Thor frowned at him as he stretched. “Try what?”

“Try and explain.” The words were bitten out, and Loki’s face was twisted with displeasure.

It was not an unfair request, but neither was it easily appeased. Thor sank back down on the bed, his elbows braced on his knees and took a deep breath. 

“My father had not yet named an heir when he died,” he began. “There was hope that the crown would pass to me as I am the oldest, but until the year before my father’s death, I was—unworthy. The Council was not blind to my faults, and there were rumors that the delay in naming the new king was a direct result of that. The Councilmembers feared that I was not as reformed as I claimed to be, but my brother, Baldur, is still quite young. They were hesitant to lay such a responsibility upon his shoulders, ready though he was. The third son of Odin, Váli, chose to live in Midgard, and though he is of age, lacks now the understanding of what it would mean to be king in Asgard.

“Baldur would have agreed to the marriage if asked, but I could not do that to him, nor to Váli. Verily, there was only one possible choice, and that was to accept the marriage myself. I will not lie to you and claim that I agreed happily, but my hand was not forced. It was not until the question of an heir was brought up that I hesitated. In the end, my voluntary sacrifice was enough to see me crowned king of Asgard, for all the good it has done me. Now my brother sits upon the throne, unhappy but willing, and I am here.” He glanced down at his chest. “Here, and no longer trapped as a woman.”

“It was foolish of you to do so to begin with,” Loki snapped. There was genuine anger in his tone, and Thor knew it was just.

“I see that now. However, I should point out that your message to me was not the most forthcoming. You demanded a union between our realms, but you offered no middle ground. To us, it was a politely worded threat. When my mother realized an heir would be required to truly unite our realms...” 

As well-meant as his mother's intentions had been, she had caused some of the greatest, most unnecessary turmoil in his life. The blame, he knew, was not hers alone to bear. Had he taken the time to consider all the options, he would not have chosen to change his form. Now that he knew there was a way to undo the spell, though, he found himself disliking his female shape less. It was that thought that had Thor looking to Loki once more, and with a start, he realized just how unwell his...husband? Consort? Just how unwell Loki appeared.

“What is wrong?” he demanded, leaning forward. 

Loki smiled at him, wan and pained. “It is nothing of concern,” he replied. When Thor narrowed his eyes at him, Loki turned away, his gaze going unfocused. “Undoing such a spell when it was not myself who cast it in the first place has proven far more draining than I anticipated. Forgive me if I seem rude, but I think I shall take my leave for the evening.”

Thor had half a mind to let him go, but at the last minute, reached out to catch hold of Loki's wrist. 

“Where will you go? You have lived here every night, save the infrequent few, and I would not see you leave now.”

There was a long moment in which Loki only blinked down at Thor, his expression painfully young and vulnerable. He tugged once, as though to test Thor's grip, and when he found it unrelenting, sighed. 

“I had assumed I would return to the surface, that the return to your true would leave you less than inclined to share a home with me, let alone a bed.”

“Do you truly think me so shallow?” Thor laughed, the sound brittle and angry to his ears. “I have borne your children, Loki. We are past the point in which we can claim there is no caring between us. My feelings are not changed, though my body is.”

Loki grimaced. “At the very least, I should allow the time to become familiar with your original form. Your friends, I am certain, will be joyous at your return.”

“You speak as though I was gone. My friends have not left my side since first we all met. They will be happy for me, yes, but to them, I was and am always simply Thor.”

“Still, I should go.”

Thor pondered his words, then tugged once, hard. When Loki stumbled forward, Thor used the momentum to bear him down onto the bed. He was careful not to follow and possibly trap Loki there, unsure of what the reaction would be given their previous tension. 

“There is a perfectly suitable bed here, and it would please me if you would stay.” 

The look of hopeful surprise on Loki's face sent a wave of guilt coursing through him, and it caught Thor off-guard when Loki wrenched his arm free and retreated from the bed. He did not leave the room, however, and it was that which gave Thor hope even as he attempted to unravel the riddle in Loki’s words. Tossing back the covers, Thor rose from the bed and moved to stand before Loki. 

“The body I have worn these last few years— at first, I could not accept that part of myself, not when it felt like a punishment and not a salvation. When I finally came to accept it, it was with a certain degree of dread, for even then, I felt unbalanced. Now we stand as equals, in our most comfortable and natural states.”

Loki's tone when he replied was full of bitterness. “You would not think so if you knew the true me. You are not the only one who has lived a lie all these years, Thor, son of Odin. Do not mistake your unease as a woman and contentment as a man as unnatural or natural. Your body is little more than a shell, a prison you are born into unless you have the means of remolding it to your will.”

Thor smiled. “You misinterpret my meaning, perhaps on purpose. Or maybe the fault lies in my poor choice of words. Either way, I meant only that I am once more as I was born, and for that I am grateful. The Thor you see before is who I am, not a shade or lie.”

“And what of me, _husband_? For this is not the true face of Loki Laufeyson, king of Jötunheim.” 

As Loki advanced, the air around him began to quiet, the constant hum of energy that normally surrounded him fading. With a start, Thor realized that was not the only change. Loki held up his hands, and his skin, warm and pink-pale began to darken until it shone the truest shade of blue. 

It was easy to believe that Loki had assumed Thor would be horrified and disgusted to see his true face. Verily, Thor had expected as much. The frost giants were not attractive, at least not to Thor, and Thor had thought the same would be true where Loki was concerned. Instead, he found Loki breathtaking. The blue of Loki’s skin reminded Thor of the waters in Midgard, and it was unmarked by the scars that lined the faces and bodies of the frost giants. 

He reached out on instinct to drag his thumb over one high cheekbone, and something low in his belly clenched at the way Loki's eyes closed and his features softened, the vulnerability there heartbreaking. When Thor met Loki’s blood-red gaze, it was to find his eyes wide and his expression stunned. It was then that the last of Thor’s reserve began to crumble and he wondered if Loki had ever felt acceptance when revealing this part of himself to another. Thor doubted it. Though the people of Alfheim were more open to difference, he found it hard to believe that they had seen the beauty in this part of Loki.

“Once before, I said that no matter what, I believe we would have found one another, and that in any instance, I would have love you. Though I refused to say the words before now, was unwilling to admit it even to myself, what I feel for you, Loki, is not a simple, passing thing. You have become a part of me from which I cannot bear to be separated. That has not changed just because you no longer appear as you once did.”

“An easy thing to say, I can assure you, but I learned long ago to keep this face hidden. The elves of Alfheim are tolerant, but only to an extent.”

When Loki made to pull away, Thor slid his hand around to cup the back of Loki's head and tightened his grip. He allowed himself only a moment to think on his next move before he was pulling Loki in and closing the distance between their mouths. For a moment, he thought Loki would pull away, could feel him tense, but as one breath became the next, Loki relaxed into the kiss. When they broke away, Thor watched something dark and unknown pass through Loki's gaze. It sent a shiver of awareness down Thor's spine, and he swore softly before dragging Loki close once more.

“I would gladly take up my duties as your husband once more, if you are willing. I should like to see what new things we can do together.”

Conflict was clear in Loki's features, but when Thor tugged on his hand, he put up no fight. It was not until Thor was undoing the clasp of his cloak that he snapped out of whatever daze had held him. 

“It cannot be so easy for you,” Loki said. He made as though to pull away, but stilled when Thor did not relinquish his hold.

Thor smiled, though he knew it held no humor. “And yet it is. I enjoyed your touch as a woman. Would you deny the chance to enjoy it now as a man?” Thor regarded him in silence for a moment, weighing his next words with care. “I believe, Loki, son of Laufey, that you and I will be a good fit, but more than that, I have learned that warmth that lies in your heart, and I would not have it hidden from me again. As I said, you are now a part of me, and not only because we share children. You gave me the chance to prove myself a good wife. Let me now prove that I will be a good husband as well.”

“And if I refuse to submit to you, then what?”

Thor stepped close, tilted his head down and to the side to nose along the line of Loki's jaw. When he reached Loki's ear, Thor whispered his next words, his lips brushing the delicate shell.

“Then I would submit to _you_.”

His words had the desired effect; Loki let out a soft, choked moan and his head tipped back to bare more of his throat. Thor let out a rumble of pleasure at the sight and this time, Loki did not resist as he was led to the bed. When Thor bore him down onto the mattress, Loki was pliant, his mouth warm and welcoming beneath Thor's. Even as his clothing was stripped from his body in slow, measured movements, he voiced no complaint.

It was as Thor was relearning the lean planes of Loki’s stomach and the sharp jut of his hip, that he noticed what was happening. At the places his lips touched, the hue of Loki’s skin fading from brilliant blue to a warm pale pink. Thor pulled away long enough to speak, his fingers picking up where his mouth had left off.

“Is it a conscious effort?”

“Is what—?” Loki blinked down at where they were pressed together, a frown marring his brow. “No, it is not.”

Thor hummed and pressed a kiss to Loki’s side. “Then it is me that is causing the change. Interesting.” He surged up, bringing their mouths together, and caught hold of Loki’s cock. He squeezed with gentle fingers, then stroked twice. When Thor shifted again, it was to bring his cock in line with Loki’s, and he felt a swell of pleasure at the spread of pink across Loki’s blue cheeks. “It has been too long for you if just this can bring to a blush to your cheeks,” Thor murmured.

“If by ‘too long,’ you mean ‘ever.’ I was not so inclined in Alfheim, and here…” He did not need to finish the thought. 

“Then I shall have the pleasure of being your first.” The idea had Thor grinning broad and full of teeth. When Loki opened his mouth, a protest in his eyes, Thor leaned down and nipped at his jaw before speaking. “There is no shame in it. You were my first as a woman, and it is a decision I do not regret.”

Loki laughed, and though there was tension in the sound, there was no hostility or insincerity. He looked away for a long moment, then met Thor’s gaze head on.

“Everything will change after this, if not between you and I, then between you and the townspeople.” He frowned. “It will change things between you and the children, as well.”

“Later,” Thor grumbled. “Let us have these serious discussions when I am more inclined to think.” To emphasize his point, he rolled his hips. “Now, hand me the slick.” He could feel the moment Loki tensed, every line of the slim body going tight with discomfort. Thor pulled back to peer into his face, concerned. “I mean only to ease the friction between us,” Thor assured him. “Though I can promise you that there is pleasure to be found in being touched here.” As he spoke, Thor slid his fingers further down until the tip of one slipped over Loki’s hole. “Not this time, perhaps, but soon I will show you just how much.”

Done with words, Thor bent his head once more to bring their mouths together. A shiver moved through Loki, then he was twisting half onto his side to reach for the jar of oil they favored for sore muscles. After he succeeded in removing the lid, Thor dipped two fingers in, making certain to coat them generously. 

Loki gave a jolt when Thor's hand wrapped around both their cocks, his gaze going from startled to pleased before Thor completed the first stroke. His hips lifted off the bed as he pushed up into Thor, and his hands, previously clenched in the sheets beneath him, latched onto Thor's with a grip so tight, his nails dug half moons into the skin there. 

"I enjoy seeing you so lost in pleasure. Your eyes grow so dark, I feel I could drown in them."

Loki opened his mouth as though to reply, but Thor preferred his silence. With a sharp twist of his wrist, he brought the heads of their cocks together and pressed a nail to Loki's slit. It was a trick he had learned sometime in their second or third month of sex, and it never failed to push Loki over the edge when he was close. 

With a sharp cry, Loki came, his release spilling hot over Thor's knuckles. Thor stroked him through the rest of his orgasm, not relinquishing his hold until Loki winced. When he pulled away, it was to gather Loki's come with his fingers and use it as he continued to jerk himself off. Seconds later, Thor came with a gasp muffled in the curve of Loki's neck. 

Panting, Thor dropped to the side, close enough that they were still touching. There was still much to discuss, too much to start the conversation right then, and Thor knew it would have to happen soon. The more pressing concern, however, was that of their children and Thor's desire to keep their lives as free of confusion as possible. He felt conflicted over the idea of changing back now that he was physically a man again, but when he thought of Thrúd, Móði and Nari, he knew that he had little choice in the matter, at least until they were old enough to understand and not be frightened or traumatized by the disappearance of their mother. Even stranger still, Thor found himself almost missing the fullness of his breasts and the spread of his hips. The ability to orgasm multiple times in a row without the need for rest in between was also hard to give up.

“The spell you used, to return me to my original form?” He paused, surprised by his own wording. Not that long ago, he would have said ‘true’ form, but now that he had the sense of his own being, he found that little had truly changed.

Loki tipped his head to the side to meet Thor’s gaze. “As I said, to use my own magic to undo a spell not of my devising—”

“And if you were to create the spell?”

“Then the power used would be manageable, not as taxing.” His expression turned shrewd and assessing. “You wish me to change you back… for the children’s sake.”

Thor debated over lying. If he said yes and left it that, there would be no need to discuss or even think about his reasoning. When he really looked at Loki, though, he could see something curious, something almost _hopeful_ that gave him the courage to say, “And my own, as well. If I am given the choice, if there is no permanence, then I would have the ability to move between the shapes when the time is appropriate.”

Loki rolled so that he was braced half over Thor, his eyes dark and wondering as they peered down at him. “This idea you have of what is an “appropriate” time is a limitation, a means of control that has been instilled in you by your people. As I said before, in Alfheim, change one’s gender is part of one’s nature.” He took a moment to stare, then asked, “You would want that? The ability to move back and forth between forms?”

“I was not lying when I said that I enjoyed my time with you as a woman. I have no doubt the same will be true, being with you as a man. If it is not too much for you, then I should like to have both.”

“It is not, but—” Loki frowned. “I do not understand why you suddenly have such an interest.”

Rather than answer with words, Thor pushed up to close the gap between their mouths. He kept his hands to himself, which meant when he slowly lowered himself back down, it was by Loki’s on volition that he followed. He pressed against Thor, letting his full weight come to rest on Thor’s chest.

“The things I could show you,” Loki breathed when they pulled back. 

“Then show me,” Thor challenged.

Thor reached for him, a startled laugh escaping when Loki’s body shifted. In the space of a heartbeat, Thor found himself with a fully female Loki in his arms, her eyes bright and sultry and full of secrets. Her lips curled up at the corners, promise and something much darker sending a shiver of awareness down Thor’s spine.

“I intend to,” she murmured. This time it was she who brought their mouths together, chasing all thought away.


	4. Epilogue

Loki was still abed when Thor padded into the bedroom, the sheet pooled low on his hips and the curve of one buttock exposed. He hummed as Thor climbed in beside him, but made no move to roll over. The last few weeks had been busy as they prepared for a two-month stay in Asgard, and since their arrival three days prior, all of Thor’s time had been consumed with business. 

Now, though... now their time was their own. The children were with Thor’s mother, happy to be entertained by her and her maids. Loki, who had been forced to dine with a glaring Baldur, was in need of some attention lest he decide to return to Jötunheim early, and now Thor had the time to give it to him, undivided and with several hours at their disposal. 

From his bedside table, Thor withdrew a small vial of oil and poured a small amount into the small of Loki’s back. He swallowed a laugh at the shiver it caused, then dipped two fingers into the oil. He trailed them down with a casual air, but when they found their home, two knuckles deep, the breath he sucked in was far from calm. Loki groaned, the sound half-lost in his pillow, and when Thor made no move to press deeper, he pushed back into the touch. 

“Thor,” he bit out. 

Loki’s voice was rough with sleep, and when he peered over his shoulder to glare, his eyes were warm. Thor grinned at him before leaning down to press a kiss to his spine. As Thor made his way lower, he added something extra to every kiss: a nip of teeth, blunt and teasing; the slide of his tongue, warm and wet; a puff of breath over damp skin to send shivers racing through Loki’s body. When he reached the place where Loki squeezed tight around Thor’s fingers, he teased with his tongue. 

The sound Loki made was music to Thor’s ears, and he withdrew his fingers to make room for his mouth, eager to hear more. There was nothing about Loki lost in pleasure that Thor did not enjoy, and he craved the sight of Loki’s body, writhing and flushed, at almost all times of day.

“Thor, _please_!”

It was the plaintive tone that did it; Thor moved seconds later, using the rest of the oil to coat his cock before nudging his way into Loki’s body. Every gasp, every clench pushed him closer to the edge, and when he pushed all the way inside, he had to stop and hold still just to keep from coming. In this Loki proved to be the most contrary, pushing back and twisting in an attempt to make Thor move.

“If you are not patient, Loki, this will be over before it has begun.”

“And if you do not hurry up, _dear husband_ ,” Loki spat, “I will finish this by myself and leave you—” He swore, loud and biting, as Thor pulled out then thrust back in. 

With each roll of Thor’s hips, he managed to push in deeper, harder, and by the time he had a good rhythm going, Loki had fallen silent, his mouth opened in a perpetual gasp. The only sounds he made were the sharp _hah, hahs_ of a job well done, and it gave Thor a great sense of pride to see him so lost in pleasure.

“You and I, Loki, we were made for one another. Feel how well we fit together? I would fit myself inside your very bones so we could never be parted.”

The expression on Loki’s face spoke volumes, but when he looked ready to reply, Thor slid a hand under him to grasp his cock. Loki let out a low groan, going tight where they were connected. A few strokes more and Thor could feel the tell-tale shiver that precluded Loki’s orgasm. With a kiss to Loki’s shoulder that was more teeth than lips, Thor shifted his grip so his fingers were wrapped around the base of Loki’s cock, pulling him from the edge with a cruel twist.

“What—?”

“Not yet,” Thor grated out. 

His hands braced on either side of Loki’s shoulders, Thor quickened his pace until every thrust shoved Loki closer and closer to the head of the bed. Thanking the gods the walls were made of thick stone, so unlike their own home, Thor came with a roar. He was still shaking from the force of his orgasm when he bent to bite at Loki’s lip before pulling out. He dropped rough, stinging kisses down Loki’s torso, pausing to suck a stunning bruise into the skin pulled tight across Loki’s slim hips. Then he moved on to his destination, his mouth closing around the hard length of Loki’s cock.

It did not require much—never did, when Loki was so close and so desperate. Thor took hold of Loki’s hips with the wide spread of his fingers, palms gentle but firm, and took Loki in deep. It was still not an easy task, letting Loki’s cock fill his mouth and hit the back of his throat, but it was worth the sharp sting of tears at the corners of his eyes and the too-long span of not being able to breathe just to hear the strangled moan.

Thor eased back as Loki began to come, his throat bruised and his lips tingling. When he was certain that Loki was done, he pressed one last kiss to the soft head of Loki’s cock, then slid back up the bed to tuck himself at his husband’s side. He was halfway to sleep when he felt the ripple that went through Loki’s body, and he smiled, burying his face in the delicate curve of neck as he reached up to cup one full breast. 

“I could not go again now even if you begged me. Give me at least half an hour and then I shall show just how much appreciation I have for this form of yours.” As he spoke, Thor brushed his thumb over the tight peak of Loki’s breast, relishing in the soft hitch in Loki’s the breath, the stutter in his heartbeat.

“I shall hold you to that.” Loki fell silent, and Thor was just beginning to think he had drifted off when he spoke again. “The children are still young, the boys barely able to bathe themselves, but…”

“But what?” Thor had inkling of where this was going, and though he approved of the idea, wanted it dearly, he wanted to hear Loki say the words first.

Twisting onto his side so they were facing one another, Loki studied Thor with dark, appraising eyes. Something of Thor’s agreement must have shown in his face, for after a minute, Loki relaxed.

“I was thinking that perhaps one more. Maybe another girl, if you—”

“Mmm.” Thor pressed in closer, slid his mouth over Loki’s and stole his next words away. “I should like that very much, Loki. But first, I think, a nap is order.”

With that, Thor tugged the blankets tight around them, hooked an arm over Loki’s hips to keep him from rolling away, and let sleep overtake them both.


End file.
